The Curse of Malfoy Manor
by alwaysaclaw11
Summary: Hermione Granger is enjoying the consistency of her Ministry job until the day her boss sends her to look for a lost magical object at the supposedly abandoned Malfoy Manor. Dramione. Based loosely on the fairytale Beauty and the Beast.
1. Every Day Like The One Before

_As the years passed, he fell into despair, and lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love a beast?_

It was the hottest summer in a hundred years. Hermione Granger tied her unruly brown hair into a bun that rested just at the back of her head, little curls sticking to the sweat dripping from the back of her neck. The list of items she needed from Flourish and Botts was folded in the pocket of her jeans.

It should be awfully dull spending mornings in the hot sun wandering from store to store picking up items for her boss, but it was a reprieve. No one could know the value of consistency and predictability when they had not endured true chaos like Hermione had. But the chaos was over now. It had been over for three years.

The streets were packed with wizards of all sorts. Hermione bumped and steered her way through the crowd, enjoying the comforting familiarity.

"Miss Granger," an old-bearded man tipped his hat. She smiled and nodded. A few more people acknowledged her as she passed by them. Most knew of her and getting noticed in the street was nothing new.

There was only one new image in the quaint and predictable movements of Diagon Alley. A woman with midnight black hair, and eyes just as dark, stood at the cusp of Knockturn Alley wearing a velvet dress of rose red. She was the most beautiful woman Hermione had ever seen. It was mesmerizing, almost unreal.

"Hermione!" a voice shouted. Hermione blinked, shocked by the interruption. She turned. It was Harry Potter. Round glasses, messy hair, lightning scar. Same as always. Hermione smiled. "What were you staring at?" asked Harry.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder. The woman was gone. "Oh, nothing," said Hermione. It wasn't worth the explanation. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"Took the day off. I was at Gringotts getting the money for this." Harry pulled a velvet box out of his pants pocket. He flipped it open, revealing a round-cut diamond that twinkled almost blindingly in the light.

"Oh, Harry!" shouted Hermione. "Are you sure?"

Harry's bright smile disappeared. "Of course I'm sure."

"I'm, I'm sorry. It just seems fast."

"It's been three years."

Hermione's stomach knotted. Harry didn't mean he had been with Ginny for three years. He had been with her longer than that. He meant it had been three years since Voldemort's defeat. He meant it was time to move forward. They had been here before.

"I know. It's just not enough time for me."

"Well, I'm sorry, but it is for me. You already lost Ron. What else are you willing to lose?" Harry sighed, shook his head and walked across the street.

Ron asked her to marry him. Three times. Three times she turned him down, asked him to wait. Told him she needed more time. Time for what, Ron had asked. Hermione didn't have an answer for him. Ron had kissed her gently on the lips and said, "There isn't always more time." That was the last time she kissed Ron and about sixth months ago. But life had gone on without him, the way it had gone on with him.

The leaves still changed. The sun still rose and fell. Hermione still had never been in love, not true love. And that was okay with her. Love was dangerous. Love was chaos.

The hot blue sky disappeared under a thick layer of grayish clouds. The temperature had dropped dramatically in just a few hours. It was starting to rain as Hermione stepped inside the Ministry of Magic and headed to her boss's office.

Hermione pushed open the door to Mr. Collingsworth's office, balancing the books from Flourish and Botts in her arms. Collingsworth was sitting at his large black desk, looking at some old maps under a large magnifying glass. When he lifted his head, his bright blue eyes were distorted by the glass.

"You're back, Miss Granger," said Collingsworth as he sat down the magnifying glass, revealing his pointed nose and curly sandy blonde hair. "Good."

"Yes, sir, "replied Hermione as she sat the books down on the shelf.

Collingsworth was head of the Reclamation of Lost Ancient Magical Artifacts office. The job required a lot of looking at old documents and watching old memories in his cracked pensieve and very little reclaiming of actual lost ancient magical artifacts.

"I need you to do something for me," said Collingsworth as he stood from his desk chair.

Hermione started. Her day was always exactly the same. She gave him the books and then she went home. That was the end of it. "Um, okay."

Collingsworth sorted through a stack of official papers on his desk until he found a small black card with silver printing. "This is it." He handed the card to Hermione.

"What is this?" Her eyes searched the card. There was nothing on it other than the silver letters that read. 13 Salazar Street.

"We've discovered something."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "We have?" They never discovered anything.

"The Fluxon Changer"

The Fluxon Changer had a ridiculous name, as almost all of the artifacts did. But if it was real. It was well, as Ron would have said, bloody brilliant. The Fluxon Changer was rumored to either be a cup, or a jewel, or a necklace of jewels. No one really knew its form, but its powers were well known. The Fluxon Changer was supposed to have been invented in the first century by a transfiguration genius named Fluxocritus (most of the inventors had ridiculous names too) and who ever possessed the Fluxon Changer was said to have the power to be anything, to change into anything at will and take not only the shape of whoever or whatever, but usurp their power as well.

"Impossible," said Hermione.

"Nothing is impossible," he replied. This was Collingsworth's favorite expression. It was highly annoying.

"You think the Fluxon Changer is at this address?" Hermione held up the card. Collingsworth's dusty old brain had finally cracked.

Collingsworth smiled. "That's what you're going to find out."

_Oh, heck no._ "Me?"

"Yes. And you better get going. It's almost dark."

Hermione's mouth fell open. _Not a chance._ "Tonight?"

"Discovery waits for no one." This was Collingsworth's second favorite expression.

She stared down at the card again. The address was familiar like something deep and hidden inside her knew what it meant but was keeping it secret.

"What is this place?" she asked.

Collingsworth stared Hermione directly in the eye and said, as if it was nothing, "Malfoy Manor."

Hermione almost fell over. She had vowed to never return to that god-forsaken place. It was where she had been tortured by an unspeakably cruel witch who had carved a word into her arm. Marking her.

_Mudblood._

The scar was still there. It was the reason she always wore long sleeves, no matter how hot it was. Hermione never spoke of what happened. And the only way out of this was to start, but she could never start. It would kill her.

"Okay. I'll go," she answered, regretting it the second the words fell from her lips.

**Thanks for reading. I appreciate chapter reviews and would love to hear from you. Thanks again :)**


	2. A Faraway Land

_Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle._

The Malfoys had been paranoid people. They had also been rich. It was a dangerous combination. Since the war, no one could apparate anywhere within a several mile radius of the manor. They owned the land that not only the Manor sat on but the surrounding woods and the small town of Parson. The closest floo to Malfoy Manor was the pub in Parson.

Hermione took the floo from the Ministry into the pub at Parson. She stepped out of the green smoke into the equally smoky pub that was filled, as it was quickly obvious, with a strange assortment of wizards and other magical creatures.

There was a dwarf covered head to toe in mud slugging a dark brown liquid out of a bottle. Three half-giant, half-humans wore heavy robes of fur and were playing a game that required throwing dinner knives at the wall and there was a table of vampires drinking blood from goblets the size of her head.

Hermione's heart raced. Instinctively she tightened the grip on her wand. What had Mr. Collingsworth gotten her into?

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Hermione whipped around, ready to stupefy someone. It was an old man slightly shorter than her with a long beard that reminded her painfully of Dumbledore. Her heart sank.

"Sorry to startle you, Miss," said the old man. "Names Wilbur. I own this establishment." He laughed, little flakes of ash shaking from his beard. "You're not our usual... customer."

"That's alright," said Hermione, slowly lowering her wand. "And, no, I'm not it seems."

"So what brings you here?" he asked.

Might as well just ask. "Do you know how to get to Malfoy Manor?"

His head dropped down. "Now what does a pretty girl like you want with an awful place like that?"

"Ministry inspection. We're taking a look at some of our older buildings. Making sure they're up to code." That was a believable lie, right? Saying hey, folks I'm a treasure hunter just didn't have the right ring to it. Like the sane ring.

"Well I hope it fails that inspection." An old woman who was wider than she was tall lumbered up to them, smoking a cigar.

"Oh, Marta come off it," grumbled Wilbur. "She's always on about something," he said to Hermione.

Marta tossed the cigar on the floor and crushed it with her boot. "You know that place is cursed. Filled to the brim with all manner of dark creature."

Hermione glanced around the pub. _And this place wasn't?_

"No one in their right mind goes near that place," Marta continued. "The tales I've heard."

"That's right. Tales. Tall tales. All they are." Wilbur waved his hand dismissively. None of this was making Hermione feel any better.

"Well," said Hermione. "I don't fancy going in there myself but I don't have much of a choice."

Wilbur nodded but Marta wasn't listening. She had latched onto a tall, gangly wizard so covered in tattoos and scars that Hermione had no idea how old he was. A necklace of pointed teeth hung around his neck.

"Boris, tell this girl her what happened to you when you went past Malfoy Manor."

The tattooed man, Boris, sneered, showing off his set of golden teeth. "It the was full moon. I was hunting werewolves. Werewolf hunter by trade." Anger bubbled up in Hermione. Lupin had been a werewolf and her friend. Werewolves were people. Hunting them was disgusting but she said nothing. "Anyway, I was on the trail of a mean ol' thing, biggest one I ever hunted. When I saw it."

"Saw what?" asked Hermione.

"Don' listen to em," said Wilbur. Wilbur was probably right but Hermione had to know what Boris saw.

"The earth just opened up like a big gaping hole to hell or something. I skidded to stop on Countess, that's my thestral. And the ground swallowed the werewolf up." Boris snapped. "Just like that. Then everything just went back to normal. Solid as bone." He stomped on the wooden floor.

Hermione felt sick. Her hands were sweating and her whole body shaking. She was trying to think of a spell that could do something like that but she couldn't.

"Tell her what you saw after that."

There could not be more.

"I turned and that's when I realized where I was. Right smack dab in front of the entrance to Malfoy Manor. 'Bout gave myself a heart attack. Everyone round here knows not to get anywhere near that place. And right up in the west wing I saw something I'll never forget. Two eyes, red as the devil staring back at me. Turned around on Countess and got out of there fast as I could ride. Couldn't pay me to go back there. No ma'am."

_Red eyes. _There was only one person Hermione knew of that ever had red eyes. Lord Voldemort. Hermione's knees shook, thoughts of the war rolling over her like a stormy wave. He was gone. It couldn't be him. But what else would have red eyes?

"Quit scaring the girl," said Wilbur. His wrinkled hand patted Hermione on the shoulder.

"What ever happened to them? The Malfoys?"

"No one rightly knows now do they," said Wilbur. Hermione knew as much. The Ministry had no concrete record of the fate of the Malfoys. They disappeared about a year after the war ended.

"Plenty of speculation, though," said Boris.

"But everyone here knows what happened." Marta crossed her arms.

"We do not," said Wilbur.

Marta kept talking. Every time she spoke Hermione felt sicker. "Offed themselves, if you ask me. Couldn't take their loss of power. Rumor was they were losing the manor as reparations for the war. Hung themselves in the dining hall but before they did set a curse on the place so the Ministry couldn't take it... which doesn't bode well for you, does it girl?"

"That is enough!" shouted Wilbur. "Nothing but a bunch of silly gossip."

Hermione steeled herself. She was still a Gryffindor after all. A lot of this sounded far-fetched anyway. She promised Collingsworth she would go and that's exactly what she would do. Go to Malfoy Manor, not find anything and leave. It's not like she actually expected the Fluxon Changer to be there.

"How do I get there?" sighed Hermione. Marta shook her head and stomped away with Boris, muttering something that sounded like stupid girl. Hermione turned to Wilbur. "So?"

Wilbur sighed. "Take the road that runs behind the pub. You'll have to walk. Maybe you should wait until morning."

"I'll go tonight," said Hermione. "I just want to get his over with." She really, really did want to get this over with and Mr. Collingsworth had told her to go that night. She wasn't sure why but maybe he was afraid that whatever was there now would not be there tomorrow. Maybe Collingsworth had known more about all these rumors than he let on. Maybe that's why he sent her instead of going himself.

_Coward_.

**Sorry. Not too much happened in this chapter but I wanted to build the rumors and fear surrounding the Manor and the uncertainty about Collingsworth sending Hermione by herself. Read and review. Thanks :)**


	3. The Girl We Have Been Waiting For

_She placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there._

The road stretched on long and dark, illuminated only by the shimmering tip of her wand. Pulses of electricity trembled the rough skies that hung uneasily close to the earth.

It started to rain.

Hermione considered turning back, but it was a further distance to the Pub than it was to Malfoy Manor. The manor was visible in the distance, its slender black spires like the fingers of a corpse reaching from the grave. But was it reaching for the light or trying to pull the light into the darkness?

Her clothes were dripping and heavy by the time she made it to the front gates. To the spot where Boris swore he saw the earth give way to the underworld. Hermione shivered but not just from the cold, but from the memories of what had been in this place and the terrors of what could be.

The shocks of lightning gave Hermione a clear view of the old place. The manor was constructed of black brick and long vines covered the walls like tendrils of Medusa's hair. The gates were wide open, allowing her easy access to the narrow path leading to the grand entrance.

Hermione knew enough about the Fluxon Changer legend to quickly search the house and see if there was any trace of magical object. She could do this in a matter of minutes. There was spell to bring forth that which was hidden. And it would be like nothing happened. Like she was never there. She took a deep breath and stepped through the creaking gates.

The door could have fit a full grown giant and the silver knocker that adorned it was in the shape of a dragon, but it wasn't breathing fire. It was breathing snakes. She lifted the knocker and let it fall against the wood. She had to check if anyone was home.

No answer.

Hermione would have used an advanced unlocking spell, but the door wasn't locked. With a deep breath, and nerves racking her body, Hermione pushed her way inside.

It was pitch black. Impossible to make out more than the vague silhouettes of objects unless her wand was pointed directly at them. She aimed her light in the air, hoping it would give her a more general appearance of the space.

The entrance hall was wide and arched, with giant lanterns bigger than she was hanging above. She didn't remember this area from the last time she was there. That was good. Hermione didn't want to think about what happened the last time she was there.

Hermione took a few steps forward, examining the place before she started searching. She would try "Accio Fluxon Changer" but she had learned from her time hunting horcruxes that "Accio" didn't work on heavily magical or enchanted objects. At least not ones that intended to stay hidden. Hermione would have to use a less exact and more advanced locator spell that could guide her in the general direction of the object. Something like the hot and cold game she played as a child.

She paused. There was a timid squeak. Then another and another. Little rushed spits of high-pitched words coming from the shadowy distance. There was someone else here and it sounded like a -

Yes it was. A house elf. Two actually.

The one busily talking was short and unusually curvy and thin for a house elf and had black tipped ears. It wore pink fabric wrapped around its small body. The other wore all black.

"Oh come on, Lucky. She could be the one," the girl house elf whispered, her eyes bright and wet. Hermione pretended she couldn't hear them. She wanted to know what else they would say.

"We'll get her out of here now if we know what's best for us!" muttered Lucky, the other house elf. He had big floppy ears that fell down his back and piercing grey eyes.

"Oh, hush. It'll be fine. We can't rightly send her back out there now. It's started to storm."

A flash of lightning lit the gaping foyer, revealing wrought iron chandeliers and perfectly dusted black furniture. The elves had been doing their jobs. Hermione's eyes met the girl house elf's. There would be no pretending anymore.

"Evening, miss," said the house elf, trembling. "My name is Starry and this is Lucky. We're the house elves here."

Hermione smiled. She had always liked house elves.

"What's wrong with you? Going around telling random people my name. Trying to get me killed?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that no one is trying to kill you?" Starry's glassy eyes turned to Hermione. "Always thinks people are trying to kill him like he's some sort of important world leader. I keep telling him he's just a poor house elf and nobody cares whether he lives or dies."

Hermione shared an apologetic grin with the grumpy house elf, whose arms were defiantly crossed over his chest. "I'm sure that's not true. I guarantee Starry here would care if you died and I would too."

Lucky shook his head. "He's not going to like this one bit. Not one bit."

"He who?" asked Hermione. Was there someone else in the manor?

"Oh you had to go bringing him into it," said Lucky.

"You said it! Don't go blaming me for your big mouth," snapped Starry. "Oh, you poor dear. You're soaked to the bone. We have to get you out of those clothes before you catch the death of pneumonia." Starry's little hand grabbed Hermione's finger and tugged her toward the staircase.

"The only one's who are going to be catching their death around here is us when _he_ finds out what _you_ let into the manor."

Starry led Hermione up the grand staircase down the hall to a large circular room. It was mostly white with curved, swirling architecture and wallpaper patterned with shimmery silver leaves. It was beautiful, happy even. How did a room like this end up in a dark and awful place like Malfoy Manor.

"There are clothes in the wardrobe there." Starry pointed to a rose pink wardrobe that popped open magically, displaying a selection of beautiful dresses. "Take your pick, Miss."

Lucky stomped into the room. "What have you gone and done now?" He glared at Starry. "This is the downright craziest damn thing you've ever done."

"Oh, keep your ol' pointed, crotchety nose out of this."

"Thank you, but I don't think I could," said Hermione, shivering in her wet clothes. They were beautiful, and dry.

"Nonsense," said Starry. "Not like anyone's using them anymore."

"Were these... were they Narcissa Malfoy's?" asked Hermione. They didn't look like anything Narcissa Malfoy would have worn, but Draco didn't have a sister. There was no one else they could have belonged to.

"Oh no. They were _hers," _Starry whispered the last word.

"Starry!" shouted Lucky. "Now you've done it!"

"Her who?" asked Hermione. Lucky and Starry exchanged worried glances.

"Nothing. No one, Miss," said Starry. Hermione was curious but decided not to push it. At least not then.

The house elves left the room and Hermione changed into a powder blue chiffon dress that flowed out around her knees. It really was quite lovely. And quite unlike something a Death Eater would have worn.

A few moments later Starry wandered back into the room, Lucky just steps behind her. "Oh, miss. You look lovely, absolutely lovely. Doesn't she look lovely, Lucky."

Lucky glared and muttered some incoherent words.

"I'll take those." Starry took Hermione's wet clothes into her arms and poofed away into nothing. "Down the laundry room, Miss." As she said this, her big eyes flickered down to Hermione's forearm.

_Oh, no. _She was wearing short sleeves.

"Something happen to your arm?" Starry reached out for Hermione's arm and she tugged it away.

"I'm fine."

"You sure it looks like-"

"Starry! It really is time for you to _shut up!" _

Starry stared at Lucky and he stared right back at her. Starry's hand flew to her mouth. "S-sorry, Miss," she stuttered. "Let's get you some tea." With a snap of her fingers, a giant lantern appeared in Starry's hand.

Hermione followed Starry back down the stairs, Lucky trailing behind them. She didn't want to stay for tea. She wanted to look around for the Fluxon Changer, but how could she even do that if there were creatures living here? And there were still all those stories she heard about this place. Starry was really nice and Lucky, though unpleasant, not exactly what one would call a powerful dark creature. So what was here causing all the trouble?

They walked down a long corridor wallpapered in a bat design, lit glumly by the flame of Starry's lantern. It had to be her imagination but Hermione swore a few of the bats had eyes. Red eyes.

Hermione's palms started sweating.

The wall to left trembled like they were experiencing the after shocks of an earthquake. Hermione steadied herself. Maybe she was just dizzy.

There was a horrible cracking sound and a piece of the wall broke away then flipped out in front of them. Hermione screamed, tumbling back into Lucky.

The broken piece of the wall had five points. When Hermione took a closer look, she could tell it was nearly the shape of a person.

"M-master," muttered Starry. "Good evening."

A cold voice laughed. The ground trembled as the piece of wall shook. Tiny fragments of plaster and dry wall and bat wallpaper exploded in the hallway. Starry, Lucky and Hermione ducked from the flying debris. When the last piece fell to the ground, Hermione looked up and saw where the piece of wall had been, was now her old Hogwarts rival, Draco Malfoy.

This was bad. Very, very bad.

He was tall and slender, as he had always been, but quite a bit paler if that were possible. His skin had an almost greyish tint like curves and flourishes across his flesh visible in the dim light. His pants were black and well pressed, his shoes sleek and shiny. The only evidence that showed where he had been was his vest, the fabric the same pattern as the wallpaper. And his eyes, they were. They were faintly red, dimming by the second, coming down their brightness and returning to molten silver. He was, dare she say, kind of beautiful. When Hermione looked back where the wall had broken, she saw no trace of what had just occurred.

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?" asked Hermione, her voice finding its footing somewhere between a stutter and a shout.

Malfoy curled his lip. "It's my house. What are _you_ doing in it, _mudblood_?"

Hermione felt an old hatred burning inside of her. Now it wasn't strange or mysterious. It was potions class. It was nothing but bratty old Draco Malfoy being a git.

"I was sent here by the Ministry," she said calmly. "This estate belongs to them."

In a swift motion, Malfoy swept by Starry and grabbed Hermione by the shoulders. He slammed her into the wall. She gasped.

"Try and take it from me. Try, mudblood. I beg you," he snarled. There was something about the way he said that. It was almost like he really was begging. Hermione tried to pull away but he had her locked against the wall.

"That hurts, Malfoy!" she shouted, wishing she hadn't said a word. Hadn't given him the satisfaction of knowing he hurt her. But Malfoy dropped his hands away, his eyes trailing down the length of her body. His hand jutted out and grabbed the blue fabric.

"Where did you get this?" he snarled.

"Uh, I-" Hermione's eyes instinctively flickered to Starry but she didn't want to get the poor house elf into any trouble. She'd seen first hand how a Malfoy could treat a house elf. "Found it."

"I gave it to her," said Starry.

Draco roughly knocked Hermione back into the wall. He wasn't touching her but his body still blocked her, still had trapped. She reached for her wand. _Oh, Merlin, no. _She had left it in her other clothes. The ones Starry spirited away.

"No one is allowed in that room!" Draco was breathing heavily, pacing. He was even sweating. His cold eyes turned back to Hermione. "It's the dungeons for you, mudblood."

"What?" said Hermione and Starry at the same time.

"She is a trespasser. That's what we do with trespassers."

"But, sir," whispered Starry.

"I've heard enough from you," snapped Malfoy, his focus turned to Starry. Hermione seized the chance to run but something was wrong. She was sinking into the wood floor. It was like trying to run in wet cement.

No. No. No.

Draco's arms wrapped around her.

"Let go of me," she shouted.

"That's enough, mudblood," he said into her ear. Draco dragged her down the hall and down a short flight of stairs. Her feet snapped against the stone steps. She swore not to cry but she could feel tears welling. Draco flung open the thick cement door and shoved Hermione inside. She stumbled onto the hard, cold floor.

Her eyes met his, locked with his. Then he slammed the door in her face.

Hermione was going to die in Malfoy Manor. She just knew it.

Hermione started to cry.

**Thanks for reading. I love reviews. They inspire me to keep writing! Sorry it's been relatively Draco-less up to this point. I promise lots of Draco from here on out. Hope you liked it! **


	4. Leave This Place

_For she had seen that there was no love in his heart._

Hermione woke to a thin strip of light, shimmering in through the small barred window in the far right corner of the dungeon. She was still there. In Malfoy Manor. It hadn't been a dream.

_Crap._

But Collingsworth knew where she had gone. Surely, the Ministry would send someone after her. Not that Hermione placed a lot of trust in the Ministry's good nature. She'd learned that lesson the hard way during the war. Even if they didn't come for her, the people in the town also knew where she was. But they had their superstitions about this place. Why would they risk their own lives for a passing-through girl they never knew.

Hermione sat up and leaned against the frigid stone, the dress she had borrowed littered with bits of dirt and grime from the dungeon. Her head fell to her knees. She didn't care about the Fluxon Changer or her job at the Ministry. She just wished she had never come.

Her hands ran across the icy stone floor, feeling the combination of smoothness and roughness. Was this really the last place she wanted to see? No. Of course it wasn't. And she couldn't give up. Not yet.

Hermione was going to find a way out of there.

She scooted over to where the light would fall across her face. It was cold and she would take even the smallest bit of warmth. Time seemed to move by slowly and Hermione started to wonder if they were just going to leave her down there to die. It was Draco Malfoy after all.

"Hello," a timid voice said from behind the door. It had to be Starry.

"Yes?" answered Hermione. She could hear the jangling of keys. The door screeched open and little Starry pattered into the room, holding a tray of food.

"Morning, miss," said Starry as she sat the food in front of Hermione. It was orange juice, bacon and biscuits and jam. Not half bad for a prisoner.

"Thank you," said Hermione. Keeping on the good side of Starry was in her best interest. House elves were very powerful creatures.

"I'm, uh, sorry about all of this." Starry fidgeted uncomfortably. "I didn't mean-"

"It's not your fault. You can't control what he does."

"No. I suppose you're right," said Starry. "But, miss?"

"Yes?" Wait. The door. It was... open.

"He is not as bad you think he is."

Hermione slowly stood up hoping Starry wouldn't think anything of it. If she moved fast enough, could she get out before anyone noticed. "I've known him for a long time. And he's just as bad as I think he is." Hermione took a step toward the door. Starry stepped in front of her.

Dang it.

"You shouldn't try that."

"Try what?" Hermione said as sweetly as possible. She had pushed her luck by taking that step toward the door if she wanted another chance to escape she would have to take it easy.

Starry let out a soft sigh. "It'll make it harder for me to convince the master to give you a proper room."

"I don't want a proper room, I want to to go home."

"My apologies miss but leaving is not an option."

"It would be if you let me go."

Starry walked to the door, placed her hand on the stone then looked back at Hermione. "Don't speak of what you do not understand."

Hermione started when the door slammed shut. She spent the next few hours checking every corner of the dungeon for possible weaknesses and trying to loosen to the bars from the window. It was futile because even if she removed the bars she still couldn't fit through the small window.

The sun was starting to go down. Hermione had finally given in and eaten everything that Starry had brought her. She wasn't any further in her escape plan.

Once again, the door squealed open. "Starry?" asked Hermione.

"No. It's me." The voice was smooth. Hermione inhaled sharply. It was Draco. He stepped around the corner. He looked slightly different than the time she saw him before. He was wearing a plain grey three piece suit, the tips of his hair a light grey that matched the stone walls.

"What do you want?" spat Hermione, instinctively turning away from him. He was the last person she wanted to see.

"I have some dinner for you," he said, averting his eyes. What? Did he find her so repulsive he couldn't even look at her.

"Well, bring it in then."

"I give the orders around here."

"Oh, Malfoy, has it been so long that you've forgotten that I do not take orders. Especially from a Slytherin git like you."

"Fine. What's it to me if you don't eat?" Draco threw the tray of food. The platter clanged against the floor. The stew and bread splattered all over the floor. Hermione tensed, her eyes met Draco's. He was angry, but at least her was looking at her.

A flood anger surged through her. She stomped up to Draco. "What's wrong with you? You lock me in here and act like I'm the one causing problems."

"You came into my house! This is my house!" He grabbed Hermione abruptly. She tore away from his grip. "Get out," he said quietly.

"What?" asked Hermione. She couldn't believe what he had said.

"Get out! Get the bloody hell out!" he shouted. Hermione took one last look at him, the red raging in his irises and ran up the stairs, passing Starry as she went.

"Master. You can't!" yelled Starry. "She'll-"

"It's done," said Draco. That was the last thing Hermione heard before she was out of the staircase and running through the entrance hall toward the looming doors. They opened for her as she met them. She raced out onto the grounds.

Hermione could not believe Draco had just let her go. A swell of joy filled up in her. She was going home. Back to her job, back to normal. And she knew what she'd do the moment she got into town. She'd owl Ron and see if maybe they could try it again.

She fell down. It was like she'd run into a wall but there was nothing in front of her. Nothing but air. Her feet lifted from the ground. She tried to find her way back to earth, rediscover her connection with gravity but she just rose an inch at a time off the ground. Her throat ached. It was like strong hands were squeezing against her windpipe.

_Oh Merlin._

She couldn't breathe. The world was starting to go fuzzy. Just as she'd been given hope, it had been ripped away. Hermione was still going to die in Malfoy Manor. At least this was better than dungeons. It was a sunny day, the wind was warm and gentle and the air smelled like grass.

Hermione heard a voice but the words were blurred, as was her vision. She heard them again and this time they were clear enough to make out.

"Take my hand," said the voice. Hermione forced herself to focus. It was Draco Malfoy on the back of bright white horse, his hand extended. It was hard to move, liike pushing through a nightmare, but Hermione stretched her arm out. Draco's cold hand grasped her.

But still the world was dimming. She'd been without oxygen for too long. Draco tugged and she collapsed into his arms, the invisible hands releasing from her neck. He held her tightly against his chest. She would have pulled away but the energy was gone and the world was slowly slipping into darkness.

Would the last thing she ever saw be cold grey eyes staring down at her?

**Thanks for reading and reviewing. I'm having a lot of fun writing with this one and playing around with the Beauty and the Beast fairytale. Please let me know what you think!**


	5. Something There

_Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish and unkind_

Hermione blinked a few times. Immediately, a throbbing pain in her head made her cringe. And her throat was sore. What had happened? Where was she?

There was a cool washcloth across her forehead that gave her a tiny bit of relief from the heat and the pain. The startlingly bright sunlight came in through the windows and the light breezy white curtains.

Then she saw him. Draco Malfoy, standing in the corner of the red and white heart patterned room. Hermione remembered exactly where she was. Malfoy Manor. But what did she remember last? _Draco letting her go. Trying to leave. The pain. The cold, grey eyes. _

"You knew this was going to happen." a light squeaky voice said. Hermione didn't notice until then that Starry was at Draco's feet, staring up at him.

"No I did not," responded Draco cooly.

For a moment, Hermione thought to make a noise, to show that she was awake, but something stronger made her want to listen to the conversation.

"I couldn't have _known," _he finished.

Starry sighed. "I guess not, but still. It was too dangerous. She could have been killed."

"Since when did you care about that?" he snapped at Starry.

"Since she became our last chance."

_Last change for what?_

"Granger is not our last chance. We have _no_ chance. What will it take to get that through your head?" Draco snarled, his slender hand fisted and pushing into the wall. His hand seeped through it like it was made of pudding.

"Calm down, dear," said Starry. "Just calm down."

Draco sighed and pulled his hand out of the wall. "What are we going to do about her?"

"Let her stay. What choice do we have?" sighed Starry. Her little hand reached up and patted Draco on the hand. Hermione coughed. She'd heard enough.

"Miss is up," whispered Starry as she moved across the red carpet toward Hermione. "How are you feeling?"

Hermione sighed and figured she might as well tell the truth. "I have a bit of a headache."

Draco said nothing, just stood there picking at his fingernails.

"Master can do a quick healing spell," Starry whispered as she patted the washcloth. Draco didn't move. Starry turned her head toward Draco and drawled in a loud voice, "Master can do a quick healing spell."

Draco groaned and stomped across the floor. He pulled out his wand and kneeled down beside Hermione. She couldn't help but notice how he smelled. Like soap and a light, spicy cologne. He hesitated and then placed his hand gently on her temple. Draco laid his wand across Hermione's forehead and muttered a rhythmic incantation. There was an intimacy, a closeness in this act that made Hermione uncomfortable, but still she didn't want to pull away. A coolness filled her mind and eased the pain.

"Better?" he asked softly.

Hermione nodded, her body trembling from his nearness, a reaction she couldn't understand. "Yes." She wanted to say thank you but the words just didn't form. "So when can I leave?"

Draco laughed coldly as he stood. "You can't."

Hermione scooted to sit up in bed. "You're keeping me prisoner again?"

"Don't you remember what happened?" asked Draco.

Yeah. Of course, she did. She remembered his touch. His grey eyes, but she wasn't going to tell him. "So?"

Draco sighed. "So. You cannot leave." His eyes shifted to Starry who was standing at his side and wringing her hands. "None of us can."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not the one keeping you prisoner. The house is."

No. No. This couldn't be true. Hermione's heart started to pound so loudly she could hear it in her ears. She was stuck here.

"You're trapped? How?" What kind of dark magic could do something like this?

"Never mind."

"I think I have a right to know why I never get to leave this awful place."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "This _awful_ place is my home. And you were the one that trespassed on it. So I'd keep the criticism to a minimum if you don't want to spend the rest of your life in the dungeon."

"So you're not sending me back to the dungeons?" Hermione crossed her arms. What? Was she supposed to be thanking him?

Draco pursed his lips. His face was getting redder in little splotches. Little heart-shaped splotches like the walls. "You can have this room," he said through gritted teeth.

Hermione looked around the room. "I like the white room better. Can't I have that one?" She didn't know why she said it but she did. Stupid Gryffindor recklessness.

"If I ever catch you in that room again," Draco snapped. "Well... you know what I'm capable of." His muscles flexed from tension. He was wearing a short sleeve white t-shirt. There it was. After all these years. The Dark Mark. She caught her self staring at it. "Does it _fascinate _you?" he sneered.

"No." Hermione sat up straighter. "It disgusts me."

Draco swept over to the door. Starry hurried with him. "You'll stay in this room and you'll be happy with it." He slammed the door. Hermione jumped at the crack that appeared across the solid wood.

How strong _was _Draco Malfoy?

It was nine at night and Hermione was still staring at the crack in the door. Starry had asked her if she wanted anything to eat and she'd said no. That she didn't want anything. She just wanted to sit in this room and go crazy trying to understand the pattern of the wallpaper and how it could grow as a blush on Draco's pale cheeks.

"Master has said you can wear any of these clothes," Starry had said of the garments in the candy apple red wardrobe.

She walked over and it must have been charmed because it opened for her on its own. She pulled out a pair of grey pajama shorts with lace trim and the top that matched. There was a connected bathroom. She took a quick shower, tied her hair up and slipped on the sleep clothes. Hermione was about to crawl into bed when she noticed the grumbling in her stomach.

Why had she turned down the food Starry brought?

There was no way she could go to sleep this hungry. Hermione pulled open the door to her room. She'd find the kitchen and make herself something to eat. It was too late to bother Starry and Lucky and so late it was unlikely she'd run into Draco.

It took her half an hour but she eventually found the kitchen. Malfoy Manor was huge. Way bigger than she remembered. It was almost like it was growing. And the truth was, since she'd been here, she'd seen it do a lot of crazy things. Growing was a possibility.

Hermione walked inside the kitchen, so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn't notice the light – or the person digging through the refrigerator.

She gasped. Draco stood up, visibly startled. He had a jar of mayonnaise and bottle of mustard in his hands.

"Uh, sorry I didn't know any was down here." Hermione couldn't help it. Her eyes traced his lean body. He was wearing a green shirt that said Slytherin Quidditch on it and just a pair of black of boxers. Hermione tore her gaze away. "I'll leave."

He groaned and set the jars down on the marble counter. "It's fine." Those two words were almost like truce. At least a momentary armistice. Neither one of them seemed to have the energy for a fight.

A footlong submarine sandwich stacked with roast beef and turkey, several kinds of cheeses and lettuce and tomato was displayed enticingly on the countertop. She was _really_ hungry.

"Want some?" asked Draco.

She hesitated, then said. "Sure. Thanks."

Draco pulled out a large knife and sliced the sandwich in half. "Mayo or mustard?"

"Both."

"Me too."

As he spread the condiments on the sandwich, Hermione said, "I didn't peg you as the sandwich making type. I saw you more as the lay on a couch being fed grapes type." She pulled herself up so she was sitting on the counter. Draco's eyes lifted to hers then quickly returned the sandwich.

"I wear many hats, Granger." He handed her half of the sandwich. She took a bite. It was delicious. Honestly, the best sandwich she'd ever eaten.

"Wow."

"Thanks," he said with his mouth full.

"If you ever get out of here you could go into business. Become richer than your father. Draco Malfoy's Delicious Sandwich Shoppe Emporium."

"A shoppe emporium?"

"I don't know." She waved her hand dismissively. "We'd think of a better name."

_We? This house was making her loopy._

Draco snorted. Hermione felt a strange warmness settle through her she most definitely could not explain.

"You got a-"

Draco had a piece of lettuce sticking to his upper lip. She tried to gesture to show him where it was. He lifted his hand to brush it away but missed. Without thinking, Hermione wiped it away herself, her fingers running along the thick stubble of his upper lip. She quickly pulled away.

"Better?" asked Draco.

Hermione nodded. Unable to forget the last time she'd heard him say better. When his hand was on her head. When he'd healed her.

"You know this is the first time in our lives we've ever had a civil conversation."

"Don't go getting all mushy on me, Granger, or might have to crucio you."

Hermione tensed. That word sending horrible memories through her mind. The pain. The screaming. The face of that horrible witch.

The tense muscles in Draco's face said he might not have meant to say that. That he might have cared he'd hurt her.

"I'm going to finish this upstairs," Hermione breathed as she slid off the counter. "Thank you... for the food."

"Granger, I-"

But Hermione couldn't stay. She couldn't let Draco see her cry.

**Thanks for reading and reviewing. I love hearing your thoughts and seeing if you enjoy it. I really appreciate everyone who is following this story.**


	6. Something Sweet and Almost Kind

_"I'm fooling myself. She'll never think of me as anything but a monster."_

When Hermione awoke, her eyes were red and stinging. She had cried the night before and no matter how hard she tried to stop, she couldn't. Memories of the first time she was held prisoner at Malfoy Manor struck through her mind like a whip. Each moment painful, wrenching, bloody.

_Wait. All except... except for the mudblood._

The moment Bellatrix LeStrange said those words. Her whole life changed.

_No. Please. Please._

She remembered begging. That was one of the worst memories she had. She had begged. But the cruciatus curse does something to the way a person thinks. The pain. It makes you less than you were before you felt it. It makes you a beggar.

_The screams. _

They seemed so far away. As if they belonged to someone else, but they didn't. They were coming from her. But the one thing, the only thing, that kept Hermione sane was that no matter what Bellatrix did to her. Even the scar. She never told her the truth. She gave no one away.

Even in her darkest moments Hermione could hold onto that.

There was knock at the door. Hermione jumped.

"Who is it?" she said, her voice harsh from crying.

"Lucky. May I come in?" He sounded impatient.

"Yes." Hermione pulled the silk robe she was wearing tighter and wiped the remnants of tears from the corner of her eye.

The door squeaked open and Lucky entered, Hermione's old clothes in his arms. She walked over to him and scooped up the freshly cleaned outfit.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Starry asked me to bring them."

Hermione nodded.

"And I brought you this," he continued. Hermione sighed relief. Her wand. It was like having a part of herself returned.

She took it into her hands and felt the smooth wood beneath her fingers. Hermione smiled at Lucky.

He looked away then started walking to the door. "Uh, Miss Granger," he drawled her name. It almost sounded like Draco.

"Yes?"

"Master told me you have a soft spot for house elves."

"I guess you could call it that." She grinned sheepishly

"Well then, can I give you some advice?"

Hermione shrugged. "Sure."

"I've been married for a long time."

"You're married?

"To Starry."

Hermione tried to hide her smile. Their incessant bickering made a lot more sense.

"Starry and I, it may not seem like we get along, but we really do. And you know how we've stayed together all this time?"

"You're trapped here against your own will."

"No." Lucky scowled. "It's because we give each other the benefit of the doubt."

It didn't seem like the benefit of the doubt when they were snapping back and forth.

"Look. If Starry really upsets me or I really upset her, you know what she does. She just tells me and I just tell her. Then we do our best not to do it again, but if we screw up. You know what we do?"

Hermione looked back in Lucky's grey eyes. They weren't exactly warm, but they were determined. He was on a mission – and she was his mission.

"You give each other the benefit of the doubt."

"I want you to know I had this same conversation with someone else this morning, understand?"

_Did he mean Draco?_

"Well, need anything else before I go, miss?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. Thanks."

Lucky's hard look returned to his face as he marched out of the room and shut the door behind him.

_Strange fellow, Lucky._

Hermione sat down on the bed thinking about what Lucky had said. About giving people the benefit of the doubt. Hermione was still determined to find a way out of this place, but it would take her some time. And in the meantime maybe it wouldn't hurt to just give Draco the benefit of the doubt.

Over the next few months, things got better. Hermione listened to and followed Lucky's advice as best she could. It seemed that Draco had done the same. Still it wasn't like they were friends, or really talked. They just tolerated and gave each other space. Hermione spent most of her time, digging through the huge library in Malfoy Manor searching for anything that could help her escape.

But that wasn't the only thing she did. In the grounds behind the manor, there was a spacious pumpkin patch and vegetable garden. Starry had planted it in the summer, but Hermione had fallen in love with it so Starry left it to her to tend.

It was Halloween and Hermione was out in the garden, pulling bright colored squash and carrots from the earth and putting them into a basket. She loved the garden because it was the one time she allowed herself not to think of anything else but the present.

The pumpkins were wide and plump and bright, bright orange. She was cutting through the vines, planning to bring in a few. Some for carving and some for the pumpkin pie Starry wanted to bake.

The wind had a slight chill to it. She pulled her burgundy coat closer to her body. It felt a little shallow, but Hermione really loved the clothes she had here. They were well-made and tailored, constructed of the finest materials.

She heard the small garden shed's door shut. Hermione looked toward the sound to see Draco Malfoy. He was wearing a black wool coat and a green scarf flopping behind him in the wind. Draco slipped a pair of gloves onto his hand and lifted the rake that was leaning against the shed.

The grounds were covered in a layer of red and orange leaves. Draco ran the rake over the ground, piling the leaves.

"Nice day isn't it?" he said over the sound of the metal prongs scraping across the grass and leaves.

"Yes. Fall is great, isn't it?"

He nodded. Hermione didn't know why, but she didn't want their conversation to end there.

"Why are you raking? Couldn't you use a spell for that?"

Draco looked at her, one eyebrow raised. "Couldn't you use a spell for that?" He gestured to the garden. He was right. She could, but she did it to get away, to feel useful. That was one of the worst parts about being stuck in Malfoy Manor. She felt useless a lot.

"You should rake them into a big pile."

"Why's that?"

"So we can jump in them, of course."

"Why in Merlin's name would we do that?"

Hermione sighed and sat down the basket of vegetables she was carrying. "Because it's fun."

Draco grunted, but she could see he was smiling. "Looking like an idiot is fun?"

Hermione never thought she'd hear herself say this, but it was true. "Sometimes it is... can I help?"

"There's another rake in the shed."

Hermione jogged over to the shed and grabbed the other rake. She worked with Draco to push most of the leaves into a huge pile in the center of the ground.

"This is crazy, Granger."

She half-smiled at him. He looked down at her, uncertainty etched across his wind-blushed face. "Who are you afraid of looking stupid in front of? If you're right and we're never leaving. It's just me, Draco. And we might as well just enjoy ourselves.

"I don't usually _enjoy _things."

Hermione let out a quiet laugh. "I've noticed that... ready?"

"I don't know."

"Together?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine."

Side by side, they sprinted across the grounds. Hermione breathed in the sweet autumn air as it rushed around her. For those ten seconds, nothing seemed to matter but the pure joy of the moment. She leaped and collapsed into the leaves, smelling the earthy scent and feeling their light scratches on her face.

Draco started laughing and the warm sound filled up the air. Hermione couldn't stop herself from laughing either. I was perfect abandonment. She hadn't felt that good since before the war.

"What is going on out here?" Starry's small voice rang like a bell from the back door of the manor.

"Nothing. Just acting like a couple of crazed muggles." Draco shook his head and stood, brushing the leaves off him. The sun lit his eyes and they looked like little silver stars. He reached his hand out to Hermione and she just stared at it. "You getting up?"

She nodded and placed her hand in his. Draco helped her to her feet.

"Come on, kids," called Starry. "I'm making apple cider."

Draco helped Hermione carry in the pumpkins and they sat them around the house. Draco stood in front a pumpkin in the foyer, flicking his wand at it and changing the face over and over.

"Can't decide?" asked Hermione, leaning against the wall, her hands wrapped around a mug of apple cider. It was warm and sweet. Perfect on her tongue.

"Which is scarier?" He flicked his wand at the pumpkin. "This." The little cut-outs rearranged to make the face of gruesome vampire. "Or this?" He flicked his wand again. It was... her.

"Hey that's mean." Hermione narrowed her eyes, but the grin on Draco's face...

"Take a joke, Granger," he elbowed her in the side. They hadn't been very friendly over the past few months, but the limited arguing had made things a little easier between them. And maybe it was just the holiday but they were having fun.

Hermione rolled her eyes and took a drink of her apple cider.

"Is that any good?" asked Draco.

Hermione nodded and before she could say anything. He took the mug and drank a big gulp. "Not bad."

He handed the mug back to her. She couldn't believe he just shared her drink. Didn't Draco used to find her dirty? A mudblood. Hermione also couldn't believe that she didn't mind.

"I miss Halloween at Hogwarts," sighed Hermione. She loved the huge feasts and the excited feeling in the air. Something crazy always happened to her, Ron and Harry on Halloween. Her stomach dropped. She really missed them.

Draco must have noticed the change in her demeanor because he asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Sorry."

Draco stared down at his Hermione pumpkin. "I rather like it. I think I'm going to keep it this way... you know? He do kind of live in a haunted house. There are worse places to be on all Hallow's eve?"

"I guess," she said.

"Did you know?" Draco slipped his wand into his pocket. "That there are catacombs under the house?"

"You're serious?" Hermione had never seen an entrance to these so called catacombs but she wouldn't put it past a place like this to have them.

"What do you say? Want to spend Halloween exploring the catacombs of one of the most historic buildings in the country?" He had mischievous grin on his face and Hermione had no idea how to say no.

Then a thought went through her mind. What if Collingsworth was right? What if the Fluxon Changer was there? She hadn't seen any evidence of it yet, but there was more to this strange place and Draco just offered to take her there. If they found the Fluxon Changer, they might have a chance of getting out of Malfoy Manor.

**Ooo... I wonder what they shall find in the catacombs on Halloween night. Thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope everyone is enjoying this story. Let me know what you think :)**


	7. Ever As Before

_The old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress._

The entrance to the catacombs looked nothing like you'd think an entrance to a catacombs would look. It was simple laundry room, complete with the scent of fresh cotton and light lavender. Wash bins and piles of clothes.

Using the tip of his black boot, Draco kicked a large, wooden washtub out of the way, revealing a small wooden hatch that was hardly any wider than Hermione. It would require an enlarging charm for him to fit.

"We're going down there?" Hermione swallowed, feeling nervous for a mountain of reasons she didn't desire to assess at the moment. But not the least of which was being trapped somewhere dark and alone with Draco Malfoy, Death Eater, no matter how semi-pleasant he'd seemed recently.

"What, Granger? Scared?" His voice was a gravely whisper that sent shivers and sparks all through her body.

Draco kneeled in front of the hatch and whispered something that sounded a little like parseltongue, but wasn't. It also sounded a little like Latin but wasn't that either. "Mara – mortem – dara - ky"

"What language is that?" she asked.

His grey eyes flashed up to her, but he didn't answer the question. "Back up, Granger."

She took a few tentative steps backwards as the hatch, not only widened, but twisted and changed. The small hole in the floor became a seven foot door. A door covered in dead vines with strange symbols carved across the stone. Something like a tomb.

"I don't know about this," she said.

"Can you think of anything better to do on Halloween?" Draco leaned in the doorframe, smirking at Hermione. Her face flushed.

"Fine." Hermione gripped her wand as tight as she could manage, her mind playing over every defense spell she knew.

She wasn't going down there for Draco, she reminded herself, she was going down there for her. To find the Fluxon Changer. To get out of this terrible place.

"Ladies first," he said smoothly, placing his cold hand on the small of her back. But how did she feel that it was cold through her sweater? There was something wrong with him... she should stop this, but she just didn't.

The catacombs were dark as the darkest night. The sound of dripping water, the sour scent of mildew. Her senses seemed to come alive in the darkness. She wouldn't have even known Draco was there if she hadn't felt his cold breath on her neck or his arm brush against hers.

"Asha-I-El-Lada-Cri," Draco continued in the strange language that was making Hermione more uncomfortable than she'd like, but there was something fluid, beautiful, about the sound of these distinguishable words on Draco's lips. The door slammed shut.

Hermione jumped. Draco placed a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. Once again, she shivered at the ice in his touch.

"What did you shut the door for?"

"We cannot progress if we do not shut the door," he whispered against her cheek.

Hermione nodded without thinking. It was so dark, nothing was visible, so dark, it felt like nothing would ever be visible again.

"Do not tell me, witch, that you have forgotten one of the most simple spells."

She didn't know why she wasn't moving. Or why she liked the sound of Draco calling her witch. She didn't know why she didn't pull away when Draco ran his hand down her wand arm until his hand laid on top of hers.

Fear... or something else. Something much worse. _Attraction. _No. It could not be that.

"Lumos," he whispered, his hand over hers, his mouth near her ear. The tip of her wand began to glow, illuminating the path ahead of them. How was that even possible?

Draco released her quickly then grabbed his own wand. "Lumos," he said again. Between both their wands, Hermione could see clearly. Its walls were dark, damp stone. The floor dirt and rocks. The tunnel seemingly never ending.

"It doesn't look like there is anything down there," said Hermione, her mouth dry.

"How our eyes can deceive us, Miss Granger" he said, then started walking. Hermione looked back at the closed door. There was no way out without Draco. She hurried to his side.

"Good choice," he said. "You were the one who wanted to have fun. So let's have fun. Malfoy style."

He looked over and grinned at her., his grey eyes painted with strips of pink. She knew she had made another horrible mistake.

They walked for several minutes in a heavy silence. The only sounds were their steps, the slight dripping from above their heads and the splash on the rocks below.

She slowed and let Draco take the lead. If Hermione wanted to find the Fluxon Changer and usurp the powers of the house, she had to try the spell Mr. Collingsworth had taught her when she first started working at the Reclamation of Lost Ancient Magical Artifacts Office.

It took all of her concentration, so she had to push away her fear, her hesitation, and the way Draco Malfoy looked in the pale wand light out of her mind. Then came the incantation, but she couldn't say it aloud. Hermione didn't trust Draco with this. Not with the power of Fluxon Changer. If she actually found it, she'd make up some story about what it was, but she couldn't think about that now. She had to focus.

A yellow light expanded like a tiny sun from her wand.

_Don't look back, Draco. Please don't look back._

With a strange gust, the light blew out and an eerie explosion of sparks flashed then disappeared.

Draco turned around, his brow furrowed. "What was that?"

Hermione shrugged. "Don't know."

Draco held his gaze on her like he was trying to use leglimens, but Hermione was a master at occulimency. He would not get to her.

"Hmph. Keep up with me Granger." His voice was stiff, harsh. Not a request. Hermione quickened her pace to match his.

She waited, but nothing happened. All those sparks she sent out were supposed to create a trail to that which you most desired when you cast the enchantment.

Hermione sighed. Now she was down there with Draco for no reason at all.

But then she saw the lights start to congregate, leading from the tips of her finger, down to... oh, crap.

Collingsworth's voice sounded in her head and all she wanted to do was force it out.

_You must be sure to focus when you do the spell. You must focus all of yourself, make the lost item the one thing you want more than anything in the world. Thi spell returns to you something you've lost. Your heart's deepest desire. So you must learn to control your desire._

The lights were spinning like a misguided halo around Draco's feet, slowly working their way up his legs like a rope intent on trapping him.

_Control your desire._

Hermione took in Draco, the movement of his soft hair, the intensity in his steely eyes, the movement of his muscles. His laugh.

_Merlin, his laugh. His real one._

She had failed to take Collingsworth's instruction. She did not control her desire. And why did she desire a heartless man like him? It made her physically sick.

The lights had made it half way up his body at this point. Hermione was just staring, staring like she'd lost that brilliant mind of hers.

"What the hell?" Draco smacked at the lights like they were flies.

Hermione gasped and dropped her wand, breaking the spell. The lights went off in a snap.

"Granger... what was that?"

"Uh, I don't know."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wasn't looking at you."

Draco let out a tiny laugh. "You've been looking at me since the first day you got here."

Anger surged through her. She had not been looking at him since the first day. Except... she had. Oh, Godric Gryffindor, he'd noticed this whole time and never said anything. What a prat.

"Get over yourself."

"Back at ya, mudblood."

Hermione gritted her teeth and without thinking she grabbed Draco's arm and shoved him against the wall. "What did you just call me?" Before Hermione could stop him, he flipped her around and pressed her against the wall. She gasped at the contact, at his body so close to hers.

"I called you what you are. Or did you forget? " His hand traced her left forearm then squeezed it tightly. "_My_ filthy little mudblood." His eyes were glowing, like lights, red piercing lights, trained right on her.

_My? The Nerve._

"You're insane," snapped Hermione.

"You've been lying to me."

Hermione felt a twinge of guilt even though Draco didn't deserve her remorse.

"Git," she snarled.

"Know-it-all."

He smirked. "Mudblood."

"Coward."

Draco slammed his lips to Hermione's, silencing her. She froze. What did he think he was... Draco's lips were rough, chapped, but moved so easily, so perfectly against hers that she couldn't help but kiss back, but feel every little movement of their mouths. Hermione felt a weakness in her knees. A weakness running from his kiss to her veins and traveling through her entire body.

Draco shoved her away as if she had been the one to kiss him, then looked at her with a level of disgust she'd never seen before. Not once. Not ever. He took off running deeper into the catacombs, leaving her alone in the blackest of darkness.

"Screw you, Malfoy. Screw you!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. Hermione leaned against the wall, trying to collect her thoughts and calm her breathing before walking to the exit. Before banging on the door and screaming and hoping Starry or Lucky would come find her.

"Is that you?" she heard Draco's voice from down the wall. "Is it really you?"

Hermione wanted to ignore it but she couldn't. "Malfoy?" She walked a few steps in his direction. "Hey, Malfoy what's going on?"

"She's here," he said his voice as soft as a cloud, but still pained. He was saying this to Hermione, but then his focus changed. "I can't believe you're here...No. I won't leave you. I'd never leave you."

With her wand lit, she could see Draco, standing there, eyes perfectly focused as if there were someone in front of him, responding to his words, but there was no one at all.

"Malfoy. Come on. Let's go." Worry crept through Hermione like thousands of little spiders. He didn't respond to her. Didn't look her way.

Draco reached out and moved his hand as if he was stroking someone's cheek. It was one of the strangest things Hermione had ever seen and she had seen a lot of strange things.

"Yes. I'll stay. I'll stay here forever. It will be just like it was." Draco took a step forward. Hermione moved closer, morbid curiosity and a hint of concern consuming her.

"Malfoy! Malfoy!" Hermione shouted, but it was if he could not hear her. "Draco, please. Look at me," her voice lowered. He looked crazed. His glowing bright red eyes, his body rigid like someone had him under the Imperius curse, but there was no one there. No one in their world but him and her. "Draco you're scaring me."

Hermione grabbed his arm. Immediately, Draco tore away from her and smacked her across the face with the back of his hand. She slammed against the stone floor, sending jolts of pain through her body.

She scrambled away from Draco and looked up at him. It was if he had been emptied out, like he was no one. Then she felt the hot blood dripping from her nose over her lips.

"Yes. I'll come with you. I'll come," said Draco, his voice sounding as if he were near tears.

Hermione blinked trying to focus through the pain. There was something controlling Draco, trying to make him do something. _Come._

Draco started to move forward and Hermione had the strangest feeling if he made the step he'd disappear. Be lost forever. She whipped out her wand.

"Stupefy," Hermione shouted. A red light blazed from the tip of the wand and slammed into Draco, sending him into the other wall. He slumped over, his eyes shut.

Hermione scrambled to her feet and started toward him. She made it to where he had been standing then stopped.

"'Mione," a voice whispered. A familiar one. "Hermione, listen to me. Listen." She turned toward the source of the voice.

"Harry?"

There before her in the catacombs of Malfoy Manor was the face of her best friend, smiling, his hand out. Merlin how she wanted to take it.

"You can leave here. All you have to do is come with me. Come, Hermione, and all will be as it was."

Hermione stood transfixed. He was as Hermione remembered him. So real. So real and all she had to do was follow him and she could leave. Be free with Harry.

"No!" she shouted. Hermione had seen this kind of thing before. In horcruxes. This was different, but yet the same. She could feel it in her bones and her blood.

_Dark magic._

"You're not Harry!" she screamed at the fake Harry who didn't even react.

"Of course, I am. Don't you remember me?"

The temptation to reach for her friend's hand was nearly impossible to fight. It weighed down on her like a thousand pounds.

Hermione shut her eyes and threw herself at Draco. She tripped and landed on him, her hands spread across his chest. Her face inches from his. The memory of the kiss...

_You need to get out of here._

This time the voice was her own. Hermione grabbed Draco's wand, pushed herself to her feet and flicked her own wand at Draco. He floated in front of her. She trained her wand on him as she ran as fast as she ever had toward the door, Draco gliding through the air in pace with her.

It hit her as she saw the exit in the distance. How would they get out of here? Draco was passed out and she was afraid to wake him. Afraid he'd go running back.

Hermione set Draco down and pounded on the door. Her voice cracked as she screamed.

"Somebody help! Lucky! Starry! Please. Please. Open up, you stupid door. Open!"

She sank down to the ground next to Draco. He'd wake up in a few hours and maybe, just maybe, the influence of whatever evil lurked in this catacomb would have worn off. Maybe he'd get them out of there.

The door squeaked open and Hermione's heart leaped. She was going to get out of there. Hermione never thought she'd be so happy to see the inside of Malfoy Manor. She lifted Draco with the spell again and climbed out of the catacombs.

"What happened?" asked Starry, a look of horror etched across her small face.

Suddenly, everything came back to Hermione in a rushing flood. Unstoppable tears poured from her eyes.

"It was... I don't know he was just talking to this person, but there was no there and it wanted him to come and then I tried to stop him, but he hit me. But it was like it wasn't even him..." Hermione drew in a shaking breath as she lifted her hand to feel the dried blood across her lips, the metallic taste on her tongue. Starry stared at her, frozen.

"Who he was talking to," Hermione calmed her words. "I think it was a woman. He seemed to... to know her. Please tell me, tell me Starry, who did he think it was?"

Starry's glassy eyes looked up at the unconscious, floating Draco and then back to Hermione.

"His wife," said Starry.

**Thanks for reading and reviewing. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and I hope you enjoyed reading it. Let me know your thoughts :) Thanks again.**


	8. To Love Another

_If he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return_

Hermione had never been in Draco's room before. The green bed linens and curtains accented the grey walls. The room was exactly the colors Hermione would have imagined. (If she went around imagining Draco Malfoy's room, which of course she did not.) But even though it had the traditional Slytherin colors, the pale November light shining through the paned windows, brought a kind of muted cheerfulness to the room.

It had been almost twenty-four hours since the incident and Hermione could not believe Draco had not woken up yet. The magic of the catacombs must have amplified her stunning spell.

Draco simply laid there as still as ice, the emerald green of his comforter tucked up around his perfectly pointed chin.

There was no logical explanation to why Hermione was doing this, but she sat on a silver velvet chair, a book propped up on her knees, reading to Draco, trying not to watch his snowflake lashes flutter and his pink lips part with his subtle breaths.

But she saw _that_ flutter.

Draco's eyes peeled open, revealing their striking mercury. Hermione'd missed those eyes, the way they seemed to cut through the world, through her, with a sword.

"I'm thirsty," he said, smacking his lips together. He didn't seem to be quite with the world yet.

"Okay," Hermione whispered. She hurried into the attached bathroom and poured him a small glass of water. "Here you are," she said as she sat back down in the velvet chair.

Their fingers touched as he took the glass, pouring memories back into Hermione that she'd been trying to push away.

_The feel of his lips against hers._

_The touch of his tongue._

_The heat of his breath._

Hermione turned away from him. She had to stop thinking like that.

When Draco emptied the glass, Hermione sat it on the night stand.

"What happened?" asked Draco. Hermione's heart settled in her chest heavy as lead. Should she tell him? Or keep it secret? Should she remind him of the kiss? The woman he thought was there?

His wife?

Hermione steadied herself, Gryffindor courage and all that, and settled on giving Draco what she herself would want. The truth.

Draco's eyes studied her expressionless as she recalled their tale as truthfully as she could remember it. But there was one part she could not bear to recall, didn't need him to know. The part where he hit her. But Draco was not stupid.

Enough time had passed that the just-risen clouds in Draco's eyes had floated away and he seemed perfectly aware.

"I meant what happened to you," he said, his normally smooth voice groggy with the weight of a day's long sleep.

Hermione's hand gently touched the purplish bruise that had swollen in a curved line between her left eye and her nose.

"Nothing," she whispered, looking away.

Draco pursed those perfectly pink lips then scooted up in bed so he was reclining against the hard wood. "Let me see." Without waiting for Hermione's answer, he grabbed her chin and pulled it to face him.

He blinked a few times then said in an empty voice. "I hit you."

Hermione pulled Draco's hand away from her chin. She didn't want to lose the contact, but the way her insides were spinning with his touch said it was necessary.

"You didn't mean to."

Draco ran his hands over his face, leaving red stripes where his fingers had pressed into his pale skin.

"Do you know who she was?"

"She wasn't anyone," Hermione spat without thinking. She could see Draco's whole demeanor physically harden. "But I know who she seemed like to you," her voice softened.

Draco stared down at his comforter and began running his elegant fingers over the design in the fabric. She watched as the design seeped away from the cotton and ran up Draco's fingers, hand and arm until the swirling grey was a part of his skin.

"How do you do that?" asked Hermione.

"It just happens when I'm angry."

_She'd made him angry?_

"I'm a part of the house." He didn't sound mad as he said those words. Just resolved, maybe a little defeated.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione. He stared up at her, their gazes locked, then refused to elaborate.

"Why are you in my room?" Draco asked, his voice like the crack of a whip. Hermione stood up from her chair.

"I was..." Her eyes drifted to the book she'd been reading. "I was reading."

"You could read anywhere," he said, looking straight ahead, not at her.

"Well what if I wanted to read in here."

"I don't care what you want."

"Draco, what is your problem?"

"You! You're my problem!"

"What did I do?"

"Besides break into my house."

"Everyone thinks your dead. No one was supposed to be here!" she shouted. None of this was supposed to be happen. She should be home with Harry and Ginny and, even Ron. Hermione was so sick of being here, of being torn back and forth by Draco Malfoy. This freaking place was screwing her with her mind. And her mind was the only thing Hermione ever truly counted on.

A heavy silence settled over the room like a morning fog.

"That's the problem," whispered Draco.

"Don't say that," Hermione replied, his words causing her heart to sink for reasons she could not understand.

Draco didn't seem to hear her. "Why couldn't you just leave me down there and mind your own damn business?"

"I saved your life, you ungrateful prat." Heat rose up in Hermione, her heart pounding and hands shaking. How could he not even care?

"I didn't want you to. I wanted to stay with her."

"She – wasn't – real. Don't you get that Draco. It wasn't real."

"It felt real. And that was good enough for me."

"Is it? Is pretending really better than something we can actually touch." It was a force she couldn't explain, but a strong one. Her hand fell against Draco's. He pulled away. She sighed. "I'm sorry about your wife. I'm sure she was-"

"Astoria."

"What?"

"Her name. It was Astoria."

Hermione vaguely recalled a girl named Astoria at Hogwarts. She was younger than them.

"Daphne Greengrass's little sister?"

Draco head quaked up and down.

"Didn't their whole family move to France after the war?" asked Hermione. That had been the word at the ministry.

"All but Astoria."

"I really am sorry. I know you don't believe me, but-"

"Why wouldn't I believe you?"

"Because we hate each other."

Draco stiffened. "You don't hate me. I hate you."

Hermione snorted. "You often kiss people you hate?"

"I didn't kiss you." His voice pounded like a heavy hammer against a nail.

_The taste of honey and apples. The taste of him. She did not imagine it._

"Yes you did."

"I wouldn't kiss a mudblood."

"Stop."

"Stop what, mudblood?"

"Calling me mudblood."

"No." He folded his arms.

There was a dangerous energy in the room. Like if there was one spark the whole place would combust.

She threw herself against Draco, her hands firm behind his head, gripping the headboard. He drew a sharp intake of breath through his lips. Still, so smug.

Hermione crushed her lips to his, feeling the world melt around her like chocolate. But she had to hold on to reality. To the truth about who Draco really was. To why she was kissing him. To prove a point.

But Merlin, she'd never felt a damn thing like him.

Then the moment she was waiting for, his lips moving back, pulling her closer. She wanted to keep kissing him, but she wasn't going to give him the power back. Hermione shoved him away.

_Screw you_

_I hate you, Malfoy_

_Go to hell_

_Stay away from me_

These were all things she planned to say. Things she could have said, but instead she said something that seemed to be coming from the back of her head, maybe even the back of her heart.

"You can't live in the past forever."

Harry used to say that to her.

**Thanks for reading. Please review and let me know your thoughts. Sorry not too much went down in this chapter. I figured we all needed a chance to calm down after the craziness of the previous chapter. At least we got a bit of dramione kiss, even if her motives weren't entirely pure :) Thanks again.**


	9. He's No Prince Charming

_One Winter's Night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold._

It was the biggest snow of the season.

A two foot layer of sparkly white snow blanketed the Malfoy Manor grounds. The statues were decorated with icicles, the small pond perfectly prepared for skating.

It was nearly Christmas and as Hermione went downstairs for breakfast, she could hear Starry dragging boxes through the house.

"Morning, Miss," said Starry as they passed in the hall.

"Good morning. What are you doing?"

"Just getting out some of the Christmas decorations."

"I thought Draco didn't want to decorate," said Hermione, immediately regretting it because she only knew this information for eavesdropping on a conversation between Draco and Starry.

"He'll just have to learn to live with it."

"I'm glad. This place could use some cheer." It really could. It had been like a house of mourning since Halloween. Hermione could hardly bear it any longer. She needed out of there. But with the fluxon changer still not showing itself, the only thing Hermione could think to do was find out the exact curse placed on the manor, though no one seemed interested in divulging.

Hermione walked in the kitchen to see Lucky frying up some bacon and eggs. The smell made her mouth water.

"Hey Lucky."

"Hey."

She opened up the refrigerator and grabbed the glass bottle of milk. She poured it into a glass.

"Want some?" she asked Lucky.

"Sure." She grabbed another glass and poured some for Lucky.

Lucky slid the bacon and eggs onto four plates.

"Is Draco coming to breakfast?" asked Hermione. She had a lot she wanted to ask him if he was. He normally got up way earlier than everyone else and made breakfast for himself. Lucky, Starry and Hermione had eaten breakfast just the three of them since October.

Hermione grabbed a fork and started shoveling eggs into her mouth. She crammed a few pieces of bacon in as well.

"You late for something?" Lucky drawled as he picked up Draco's plate. Hermione snatched it out of his hand.

"I'll take this to him. Where he is?"

"His study."

"Thanks." Hermione grabbed the last piece of bacon and shoved it in her mouth. She chewed it as she hurried through the manor, dashing past Starry who was tangled in Christmas lights. Before Hermione stepped through the doors of Draco's study, she cast a quick good-breath charm. Hermione needed all her weapons, including his reluctant attraction to her, if she was going to convince Draco to tell her about the curse on Malfoy Manor.

"Draco?" Hermione slid through the half open door. Her face and hands warmed at the sight. Draco in jeans and black cardigan, the steam from a heating cauldron, making everything hot.

"Hm?" His nimble fingers were cutting potions ingredients, the room smelled of sage and lavender.

"Can I talk to you?" She slowly walked up beside him and placed the plate beside him. He looked up at her. His eyes were all smoky grey, not a hint of red in them today.

"No."

Draco could be endlessly stubborn, but then again, so could she. "Well I don't need your permission." Hermione crossed her arms.

Draco sat down his knife and looked up at her. His blonde hair was sticking up in places in that perfectly messy way. "Then why did you ask for it?"

She crossed her arms and stared back at him. "I was trying to be polite."

"Stop." He ran his hand over his face and down his lips. The lips she'd kissed… twice now, though both were strange experiences.

"Stop what?" She knew what he meant, but Hermione had to keep the conversation going despite Draco's lack of interest in it.

"Trying to be polite… and stop trying to talk to me."

"Why?"

"You're a Gryffindor, you're know-it-all, you're friends with Potter, you're a muggleborn… would you like me to continue?"

She couldn't help the smile growing on her lips. He'd called her...

"Aww." She leaned in and grinned. They were only inches apart. She could smell the mint toothpaste on his breath.

"What?" spat Draco.

"You called me a muggle-born."

"Shut up, mudblood," he said, but there was little fire in his insult. Even Draco Malfoy seemed to have grown tired of the insult.

"Nope. Doesn't count." She placed her hand on his neck, feeling the soft curl of hair at the nape. What was she doing? Hermione quickly pulled away.

"Whatever." His eyes narrowed as he adjusted the heat on his cauldron.

Hermione didn't reply. She just stood there staring at him.

"Go read a book or something," Draco said without looking at her. His focus was all in his potion.

"Half of your books are about how to skin people alive." Hermione jumped up on the desk he was sitting at without thinking. She was quickly reminded of the night in the kitchen. The first time they'd ever talked civilly to each other. The way he nervously shifted in his chair said he was probably thinking the same thing.

"Really?"

"Yeah." She nodded.

"Hey, Hermione." A deviously and undoubtedly sexy smirk crossed Draco's lips. Merlin, how she wanted to lean in, put one leg over each side of his chair, wrap her arms around his slender neck…

This damn house was making her batty. Absolutely batty.

"Yes?" she finally replied after much too long of a pause.

"Can you go get me one of the those books?" His eyes narrowed, his body tensed with what seemed like excitement. Hermione couldn't help but get excited too.

"Why?"

Draco's body relaxed and he cocked one thin eyebrow. He was still trying to get rid of her.

"Shut up." She smacked him playfully on the shoulder. Oh, great. She was flirting with him again. What was wrong with her?

Trying to distract herself, Hermione picked up a pewter sculpture of a snake and started examining it. Draco took it out of her hands. He sat it back down and started chopping his potion ingredients again. He had incredible focus. If only he could focus on…

_Stop thinking about him like that._

"What are we having for dinner?" she asked, anything to get her mind somewhere else.

Draco sighed. "I don't know. Go ask Starry."

"I think it's so cute that Starry and Lucky are married."

"Hah!"

"What?" she shrugged

"Nothing. I'll just pay you fifty galleons if you go call Lucky cute."

"What would I need fifty galleons for in here." Hermione slid off the desk. "You're just trying to get rid of me again." Draco really would stop at nothing to get her out of his study.

"Yes, but I'd also like to see the look on Lucky's face." He relaxed as he slid the ingredients into the cauldron.

"He takes himself seriously, doesn't he?"

"You have no idea."

"You're talking to me." Hermione smiled. She felt momentarily victorious before she realized she probably shouldn't have said anything.

"You're ruining it." Draco glared, but it lacked his usual venom.

"Hey, Draco."

"What?" he groaned as he adjusted the temperature on the cauldron again.

"Did Voldemort put the curse on this house?"

"No," he whispered.

"Then who?"

"I'm not talking about this." Draco stood up from his chair and walked to the window. It was strange how quickly his demeanor could change. One second he was joking, sarcastic… witty, the next he was icy, distant, like part of the house. He did say he was part of the house.

"Why not? I'm part of this curse. I deserve to know." Hermione took a few steps toward him.

"No."

"Tell me."

"Not tonight." The light from the window hit his eyes, making them shimmer beautifully.

"Why not?"

He turned and faced Hermione, his eyes locked with hers. "Because I said so."

She hesitated, but couldn't help but ask. "When?"

Draco bit down on his lip. Hermione had discovered over the last few months that that was his about to give in face. "Christmas"

"Why Christmas?"

"Because that's the day it happened," he said softly. His eyes widened as he squared his body with Hermione's. "Now, get out."

Hermione nodded and as she exited the room, she heard Draco pick up his plate and start eating. She'd gotten what she wanted. In two weeks, she'd know exactly how the curse worked and she would find a way to reverse it. All curses could be broken.

**Thanks for reading. It snowed here today - so I thought I'd make it snow at Malfoy Manor. Thanks for reading and reviewing. Let me know what you think. I appreciate it!**


	10. A Way To Look Back

_There was no love in his heart._

The morning light shimmered into Draco's room through the frost painted windows. From the door frame, Hermione watched the subtle movements of his face while he slept.

Her cheeks flush. She looked away. Draco was so peaceful, almost beautiful as she slept. Still it was time to get up. They had a big day ahead of them.

Hermione walked to the edge of his bed and shouted, "It's Christmas."

Draco gasped and jumped, startled. His eyes narrowed as they met Hermione's.

"I hate you," he snarled, but there was lightness in his voice that told Hermione he didn't mean it. At least, not exactly.

Hermione tugged on Draco's arm, causing the blankets to shift off his bare torso.

"Come on, Scrooge," she said, trying to keep her eyes of his pale, muscled chest.

"Who the hell is Scrooge?" he groaned and turned over, shoving his head into his pillow.

"Ugh. Never mind." She always forgot Draco had absolutely no concept of muggle culture.

Draco's voice was muffled through the pillow. "How in Merlin's name did you get in here?"

"Starry let me in."

"Remind me to kill her later."

"Get up."

"No." Draco pulled forward, making Hermione lose her balance. She tumbled onto the bed beside him. Her face fell into his pillow that smelled like his spicy cologne. Hermione shuddered. It was an accident, but she was in Draco Malfoy's bed. Her first reaction was to get out as fast as she could, but instead she just laid there next to him.

"There's hot chocolate downstairs and pancakes," her voice was nearly a whisper.

"Warm syrup?" Draco's grey eyes turned to her. Hermione had helped Lucky make breakfast that morning. And No. They had not warmed up the syrup but she wasn't letting cold syrup keep her from getting Draco out of bed and convincing him to do what he promised. Tell her about the curse.

"Yes."

"You're lying."

How could he see right through her like that?

"Will you come if I warm up some syrup?" she asked, still lying by his side, relishing in the warmth of his body. Hermione had been so lonely since coming to Malfoy Manor. The only time it was bearable was in these moments with Draco. She knew it was wrong but he was becoming harder and harder to resist.

"Fine. Just get out of my bed," he grumbled, but Hermione could tell he wasn't really angry. A part of her thought he may have been giving into her as much as she was giving in to him.

"Hey Granger," yawned Draco as he finally came downstairs. The foyer and the living room had been transformed into a winter wonderland. Bright blue snowflakes and icicles hanging everywhere. A towering tree in the center looked almost made of ice itself.

"Yes." Hermione smiled, taking in the image of Draco. He'd pulled on a pair of red and green pajama pants but still wasn't wearing a shirt. _Merlin._

"Merry, uh, Christmas," he said. "Where are Lucky and Starry?"

"Their working on the final touches on your present, I think," said Hermione. Draco was standing just inches from her.

"Such good house elves."

There was a small black box in his hands.

"What's that?"

"It's your present." He stared down at it like it was the most fragile thing in the world.

"You got me a present?"

"You got me one, didn't you?" he grinned.

"Well yeah, but,"

"But what? You think I'm so awful I'd forget Christmas?"

"Kind of. Yeah."

"You want it or not?" Draco rolled his eyes.

"Yes." Hermione snatched it out of his hand, grinning. "Here's yours." She reached under the tree and picked up the small package. It was scarf she'd knitted him. His other one blew away and past the boundaries.

Draco took his present and tore back the silver paper. "Thanks." He wrapped the green scarf around his neck. Hermione let out a small chuckle. Scarfs looked very strange without a shirt.

"Go on. Open yours."

Hermione pulled open the box and gasped when she saw what it was.

"I carved the pendants myself. "

It was a beautiful silver necklace with two charms hanging from the chain. A snake and a lion.

"Merlin, Draco... it's-"

They were beautiful and special and – unlike anything she ever thought she'd get from anyone. Let alone Draco Malfoy.

"I was just going to make a lion for you but I messed up the first time and it looked more like a snake... so I just made it into one," he said.

"Well, it's lovely."

Hermione held the chain in her hand, staring down and admiring. Emotions she didn't understand coursing through her.

"Let me," whispered Draco. His slender hands swept back her hair, his fingers running along her neck sending shivers all through her body. He clasped the necklace but his hand remained on her neck longer than it hand to. She didn't want him to move away. She wanted him to turn around, to pull her into his bare chest. To make her forget they were prisoners in the place. But that was crazy. "I think it's time for me to show you." He breathed against her ear.

She followed Draco up the stairs and into the room she hadn't been in since her first day there. The white room. Hermione's heart as soon as she walked in the door. She couldn't believe she was allowed back in there after Draco's mental breakdown the first time. And this time, he was the one escorting her.

His fingers danced along the walls as he whispered a quiet incantation. The wall opened up and a large silver disk slid out, a row of hundreds of tiny vials above it.

It was Pensieve. Draco pulled Hermione over next to him and poured one of the vials into the water. She knew what she had to do. She placed her face in the liquid and let the memory sweep her away.

There were lights in the windows of the houses in what Hermione remembered as Parson, the town near Malfoy Manor. It was Draco, walking along the icy streets, his shoulders slumped, his striking grey eyes empty of anything even remotely resembling life.

The image alone made Hermione sick. She wanted to reach out and touch him. To see that smile of his.

As he approached the darkened Malfoy Manor, an old woman in a burlap robe lumbered towards him.

"Excuse me, sir," said the old woman, but Draco didn't even look at her "Sir, please," she begged."

"What do you want woman?" Draco turned to her and snapped.

"I need a place to stay please." Her frail hands were clasped together.

"How is that my problem?" His voice cracked as he spoke.

"It's freezing. It's Christmas. Please, please sir." The woman reached out and grabbed Draco's coat. He tore away from her.

"Get off me!"

The woman stumbled into the snow. Her eyes lifted and suddenly they were black as coal. She opened her mouth and her voice sounded like a thousand. A thousand voices chanting the language Hermione remembered from the catacombs.

"Del- Shi- Kia – Lee"

"What are you?" Draco slowly stepped backwards, fear contorting his face.

"Mor – tae – cora – dee," the woman continued. Her body lifted into the air and started spinning, a purple light shooting from her fingers.

"You have no love in your heart," the strange voices said together. "I have seen your heart. You are as empty and dead as the walls of your Manor. And until you can find it inside you to truly love someone and until that person loves you back. This house will be a curse to all, you will be a curse to all, Draco Malfoy."

Hermione fell backwards, gasping as the memory came to an end. She fell back and Draco caught her. It was like she had had a direction connection to his emotions.

Pain. Loss. Hatred.

It was hard to breathe.

Hermione looked up into Draco's eyes, forcing back the tears. "Draco."

"Don't you see, Granger? The love of my life is dead. The curse will never be broken." He pushed her away from him and stormed out of the room.

**Hope you enjoyed the Christmas fun of this chapter and getting to learn a bit more about the curse and how it got put on the house. Thanks for reading and please review!**


	11. Bittersweet and Strange

_"Barely even friends, then somebody bends unexpectedly."_

Hermione didn't see Draco for the rest of Christmas day. And very little for the week after that. Malfoy Manor was a big place. But it didn't seem big enough for him to constantly hide from her. Unless he never left his room. Hermione figured Draco must not have left his room a week.

If she didn't know better, she'd say she was starting to worry about him.

"Do you think he'll come out of his room?" asked Hermione, leaning in the doorway and biting her nails. The only sign of life coming from Draco's room was the faint light peeking from the crack under the door.

"Maybe if you ask him." Starry swept a little dust out of the hallway with what looked like an old Nimbus.

"I can't imagine that would help," sighed Hermione.

"You'd be surprised." Starry let the broom rest against "What happened on Christmas, anyway? That's when all this craziness started."

There was something in Starry's voice, almost like an accusation, that made Hermione cringe. Still she wasn't sure who knew what around here and she wasn't about to say anything without Draco's permission.

"Nothing," Hermione finally replied. Her heart caught when she heard the door to Draco's room open up. A shadowy figure stepped through the frame. His hair was mussed and he had grown about a half inch of pale facial hair. As he stepped into the hall, his plain white t-shirt transformed into the striped pattern of the wallpaper.

"Hello." Draco nodded at them. Hermione and Starry looked pretty stupid just standing there staring. It was like the first time Hermione ever saw a ghost. She tried to not let on that it freaked her out, but it had.

"Uh, hello, sir," said Starry, a strange combination of worry and relief on her face that just made her look lost.

"Hey Draco," said Hermione.

Draco stopped in his track, his grey eyes narrowing. "What's wrong with you two?"

"Nothing." They answered at the same time. Yeah. That wasn't conspicuous at all.

"Where's Lucky?" he asked, still looking at little leery.

"In the garage," replied Starry.

"You have a garage?" asked Hermione. There was something new to learn about the manor everyday. It was a city unto itself. Albeit, a city of low population.

"Yeah. You want to see – oh, wait. Never mind. You're Ministry." Draco smirked.

"They probably fired me by now. I haven't been to work in like six months." Hermione felt her heart beat faster though she couldn't explain it. It was the very unwelcome reaction she had every time she was near Draco now. Maybe it had something to do with the curse... though that excuse was losing its impact the more she learned about the actual curse.

"Okay. Come on. But if you ever get out of here, you better keep your mouth shut." Draco waved her towards him.

"I can keep a secret."

The garage was twice as big as her dad's garage. It could probably fit six cars at least, though there was only one. A shiny silver thing that looked like it was from an old James Bond movie, sitting right in the middle of the concrete floor.

"Draco can you hand me a screwdriver?" Lucky stood on a step stool and stared down at the engine.

"Phillip's or flathead?"

"Flathead," replied Lucky. Draco rummaged through a tool box sitting on a perfectly clean workspace. That was one thing Hermione could say about Draco, Lucky and Starry. They were very clean

"I'm impressed. That's some serious muggle talk coming from a Malfoy." Hermione grinned. She was really surprised that Draco even knew what a screwdriver was. Lucky muttered something, but Hermione couldn't hear him. "What is he saying?" she asked Draco.

"Nothing," Lucky and Draco both replied. That really was suspicious.

Hermione flopped down in the rolling chair and spun around. "What are you working on?"

"Lucky's been trying to fix this old thing for years." Draco handed Lucky the screwdriver. How either one of them knew a thing about cars, she had no idea.

"It doesn't look old to me. That's a nice car." She didn't know too much about cars either. But it looked nice. Nicer than her mom's old Volvo.

"Yeah and we're not supposed to have it. So she better keep her mouth shut if she ever finds her way out of his place."

"She's cool," said Draco quickly. Hermione had to disguise her smile behind her hand. It was strange to see Draco Malfoy stand up for her.

Draco sat down beside Lucky. "Need some help?" he asked.

"Sure, kid," replied Lucky, a small smile on his normally emotionless face. "I'm trying to fix the alternator, but I don't know even know where it is?"

"Have you looked at the manual?" asked Hermione.

"The what?"

"Cars all come with an owner's manual." Hermione stood up from the chair and popped open the door. The new leather smell was somehow still strong."It's usually in the glove compartment." She opened the little plastic drawer. "See. Alternator. Hmm... where. There it is."

Hermione shut the door and then handed Lucky the book. "Is this what you were looking for?"

"Merlin!" Lucky shouted, a scowl on his face. Great. What did she do this time?

"What?" asked Draco.

"If this is right... that shouldn't be in two pieces." Lucky pulled out two little plastic piece and held them in his small hand.

Hermione was always having to put things back together for Collingsworth. She whipped out her wand and flourished it over the pieces. They quickly reformed. "There you go," she smiled.

"Uh. Thanks, Granger." Draco's eyes met her and suddenly everything felt like it was swirling. Thanks sounded great coming from his lips.

"Sure. I'll just put this back in there," said Hermione, feeling proud of herself. She took the book from Lucky and opened the compartment. When she went to put the manual back, a picture fell out of the compartment. She had hair as black as night, perfect pale skin. Hermione had seen her before. All those months before in Diagon Alley. "Who is this?" Hermione blurted.

Draco grabbed the picture, clouds rolling across his eyes. She could see the back of the picture. There was a note scribbled on it.

_Happy Anniversary, baby._

It was, but it couldn't be. She was supposed to be dead. The tension was heavy, tangible. Hermione just wanted out of there.

"I'm sorry. I should-" she said as she rushed out of the garage.

Now it was Hermione hiding in her room. There was another mystery to solve. Had Draco been lying about Astoria's death? No. He couldn't believe that. Then who was it that day in Diagon Alley? Seriously, what was going on?

Hermione sighed, exhaustion creeping through her body. She just couldn't think anymore.

She was sitting on the window sill, reclining against a pillow, staring at the enchanted clock she had traced on the fogged glass.

It had just started to snow when she heard a knock at the door.

"Can I come in?" a drawling, familiar voice asked. _Draco. _She combed her fingers through her hair and adjusted the silk pair of pajama pants and lacy top she was wearing.

_Come on, Hermione. What are you doing?_

"Sure," she finally answered.

Draco slipped in through the door and quietly shut it behind him. He had shaved and was once again wearing just his pajama bottoms and no shirt. Draco had to stop dressing like that.

"Sorry about earlier." Her eyes met his as he slowly sat down beside her in the windowsill. "I just can't seem to – I just always find a way to make it worse." She looked away.

"What are you talking about? You fixed the alternator. Lucky's been working on that for as long as I can remember." Draco tried to smile, but she could the pain in his face. The pain that was always there.

"You know what I mean," she breathed.

"It wasn't your fault." Draco sighed then pointed at the clock on the window. "What is that?"

"Oh... I just sort of drew I with my finger... then put a charm on it." The little minute hand and hour hand were ticking through the time.

"I like it," he said. Hermione let out a long breath and stared out the window. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice a little shaky. It was obvious he didn't spend to much time asking other people how they felt. At least not in a long time. Hermione probably shouldn't tell him anything, but she just couldn't help it anymore. She was lonely.

"I just... I miss-"

"Weasley?"

"Harry, actually," she admitted.

"Oh. I didn't know you two were-"

"We're not. He's with Ginny. They're probably married by now." Hermione hadn't thought about that. After everyone had searched for her and come up empty, they would have had to get on with their lives.

"The baby Weasel?"

"Draco." She felt herself scooting closer to him, taking in his warm scent, the heat of his skin so close to her. Hermione shut her eyes trying to block out something, anything to keep her from feeling this way about the person she used to hate.

"Sorry. I just didn't know you felt that way about _the chosen one_." There was a hint of humor in his voice, but it fell flat. Nothing felt funny all of a sudden.

"I don't. I don't know. He's my best friend." Yeah. Harry was her best friend. He was kind and brave and sweet. He'd always been there for her. "Honestly?"

"No, Granger. Lie to me." He leaned in enough for his hair to brush against her forehead. Shivers shot through her body.

_Think about something else. Anything else._

"There was a time. Seventh year. When we were hunting horcruxes. Ron ran off... and to this day I wonder if I would have just kissed Harry that night... what would my life be like now. I may not be here." She may not be be here. With Draco. So close to him, to his bare chest, where if she leaned in, she knew she could hear his heart beat.

_Stop it. Stop it. Stop it, Hermione._

Draco didn't want her here. He wished she were anywhere else. She had to remember that. Remember that she didn't want to be here either. Hermione just stared back at Draco, thinking of all the things he didn't like about her.

"What are you doing?" he asked. Her staring must have been really obvious.

"Waiting," she replied. Hermione intended to make a joke, but it just came out sounding defeated.

"For what?"

"_Merlin, Granger why didn't you just kiss Potter and I wouldn't have to live you and your filthy mudblood ways," _she impersonated Draco. That had to be what he was thinking, right?

"Is that how I sound to you?" His eyes were focused on her, as if they were filled with the kind of magic that could burn straight through her.

"Sometimes," she swallowed, heat rising through her.

"Not now?" Draco's voice was a hoarse whisper.

"No. Not now."

Draco's gaze shifted to the window. To Hermione's clock.

"Look," he said.

"What?"

"It's midnight." He turned to her and smiled. A genuine smile. His hand slowly raised to rest on her cheek, his cold, callous fingertips bit against her cheek like snowflakes. Draco started to lean in. It wasn't the curse. Or adrenaline. Or fear. Or even love.

It was something else. Something just as strong. Maybe even stronger.

As Draco's lips fell softly against hers, parting her mouth with his, moving softly. Rhythmically. Hermione knew exactly what it was.

Forgiveness.

"Happy New Year, Draco."

"Happy New Year, Hermione."

**Sorry for the long delay. Things have been super busy! I will try to update sooner. Hope you enjoyed the first real, meaningful Draco and Hermione kiss. And also some more shirtless Draco, just for fun. Please, please review. If you're reading, I'd love to know your thoughts. Thanks!**


	12. Beauty and the Beast

_"Both a little scared, neither one prepared."_

It was just after lunch. Hermione rested on the couch, surprised at the warm weather she could see outside the window. It had been a month since New Year's Eve and neither Draco or Hermione had mentioned their kiss.

She didn't know why, but in a way it bothered her.

"It's kind of lonely here," said Hermione. "Don't you ever feel that way?"

"Of course. But it's just a touch of cabin fever. It will go away," said Draco.

"You're probably right."

"I am."

Hermione pulled her legs up onto the couch, adjusting to get comfortable. If she could just focus on her book.

"Draco."

"Hmm." He looked up from the piece of parchment he was scribbling on.

"What if we never get out of here?"

"I don't know."

"I mean there are so many things I've never done. I've never even-" Her eyes met Draco's and her stomach dropped. He smirked. She blushed.

"Never what?"

"Just leave it alone, Draco." Hermione couldn't believe what she'd almost said. She covered her face with her book.

"Ohh. You've never…" His eyes widened as he stood up from his chair and moved to sit by Hermione on the couch.

He smelled crisp. Like soap and shampoo and after shave.

"I just assumed…with Weasley," he said.

She shrugged. "Nope."

His eyes narrowed and he leaned in. "Not even a little?"

"I don't fully understand that question but no."

A small laugh fell from his lips. "I have of course. But it's been awhile." He leaned back. "A long while."

"And if we don't get out of here," said Hermione.

"Yeah."

"Then we will never." She sighed. Her eyes quickly flashed to Draco. He was looking at her.

"Never," he breathed. "Or."

"Or what?"

"I mean we could."

Hermione's face felt hot. A strange swirling picked up momentum between her hips and her heart.

"Us? No…"

"We wouldn't," he said.

Her mouth felt strangely dry. "We couldn't."

"That would be…"

"Exactly."

Draco's fingers ran up one of her curls slowly. He tucked it behind her ear. Hermione's breaths came out slow and shaky.

She swallowed. "Want to go outside and hit the quaffle around?"

"Yeah," said Draco and they both shot up from the couch.

Hermione had never been one for quidditch or sports of any kind, but she had an unusual amount of energy that she needed to work out somehow.

They spent the next few hours hitting the quaffle back and forth. Hermione had never played any sort of sport or game with such enthusiasm, but the more she played the less she thought about the smell of his hair and the sparking touch of his fingertips.

Things got back to normal after that. Well, sort of. Hermione would catch Draco staring at her, his grey eyes alight with something she couldn't place. As Hermione ate dinner, she couldn't get her mind off the way his biceps flexed while he ate.

"So," said Starry, trying to make conversation at the deathly quiet dinner table. "What'd you kids do today?"

"Nothing," Draco and Hermione said at the same time. An unsettling look passed from Starry to Lucky. Technically nothing had happened, so why were they acting so guilty?

"We just, we read and we tossed the quaffle. You know, normal stuff." Draco stuffed some mashed potatoes in his mouth.

Hermione let out a long breath. "Dinner was great, but I have to, I need to." Hermione jumped up from the dinner table, almost knocking the plate onto the floor.

"Me too," said Draco. He followed Hermione out of the room.

Before Hermione shut the door, she heard Lucky say, "What's with those two?"

"Not quite sure," whispered Starry. The door slammed shut.

Draco ran his hand through his hair. "What are we going to do?"

"We just have to get our minds off it."

"Right," said Draco. "How do we do that?"

Hermione stared down at her feet, at the walls, anywhere but a Draco and the sharp curve of his jaw.

"What's something that really grosses you out?" asked Hermione.

"Huh?"

"You know, something that totally creeps you out."

Draco stood there silently, his lips pursed and one of his eyes shut a little further than the other. "When I was a kid, my grandma used to chase me around the house with her false teeth and they were always dripping with old lady spit and."

"Okay," interrupted Hermione. "That'll do." She shuddered, shaking away the image.

"What about you?"

"Old food… when it sits in the sink and gets all smelly and moldy." Her stomach turned just thinking about it."

"So when we start thinking about… it, I'll talk about rotting food and you'll talk about Grandma Malfoy's false teeth." He let out a long breath. "Deal?"

Draco extended his hand. Hermione slowly wrapped her hand around his. Heat ran from her fingers through her body, her breath caught. Their eyes locked…

"False teeth." Hermione's voice cracked.

"Rotting, smelly…" Draco didn't finish. He just dropped her hand and they both ran off in opposite directions.

Hermione leaned against the wall in the hallway when she was out of danger. How long could they keep this up?

That night, Hermione lay in bed, counting to a hundred then back down to zero. She ran her hands over her face and groaned.

Moldy cheese mixed with old chicken and congealed gravy.

The feel of his lips against hers. His body pressed so close.

Hermione jumped up out of bed. She couldn't take it anymore. Without thinking, she hurried down the hallway and threw open the door to Draco's bedroom.

He sat on his bed. The dim light of his illuminated wand cast shadows over his face and the white button up shirt he was wearing. A book lay open in his lap.

"Draco," whispered Hermione.

"What are you doing here?"

She held her breath as she stepped toward him, shaking. Hermione had no answer for his question.

"Rotting food," he said, but it sounded more like a question. Words without resolve.

"I'm not sure that's going to work," said Hermione, feeling suddenly exposed in her lacy black shorts and thin strapped topped. She couldn't help but notice the way Draco watched her.

"Me either."

Draco sat with his feet on the floor.

"There's something else we could try," said Hermione, hardly believing the words coming out of her mouth.

"What's that?" His voice was windy, smooth.

With a deep breath, she leaned down and held her mouth just over his. Draco's adam's apple moved as she glanced over his lips and down his chest. He grabbed her shoulder and she wound her hand in his hair, their hot breath mixing.

Finally, Hermione closed the distance. Their lips moved against each other like they never had before. Powerful but slow. Draco lifted her onto his lap, a hand gripping her hair and one supporting her lower back. She couldn't believe this was happening. She couldn't believe how much she wanted it to.

Hermione started pushing Draco back onto the bed.

"Hermione," he whispered in her ear. "Hermione stop." She heard him but the meaning didn't register. "Stop," he said again, but she just brought her lips to the pulse pounding in his neck. "Granger, stop!" He suddenly shouted and pushed her away.

Hermione's face flushed with embarrassment.

"I can't do this with you," said Draco.

That embarrassment quickly turned to anger. "Right," she snapped. "Wouldn't want to sully your perfect Malfoy body with my filthy muddy blood."

"Hermione, it's not like that."

"Whatever, Malfoy."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's not you, it's me."

She laughed. "I thought only muggle men used that pathetic excuse."

His voice was soft, almost warm. "I'm serious. You're so good. Too good… perfect."

Hermione's heart clenched. She felt tears threaten to escape. "I thought you were the one person who would understand… the one person that could see that I'm just a person. Flawed and broken and scared." She sighed. "I guess not." Hermione walked toward the door. She was about to open it.

"Hermione, stop."

She turned around. Draco was moving toward her, slowly unbuttoning his shirt as the distance between them disappeared. Her body felt so hot she was certain she'd burst into flame if he got any closer.

He was nose to nose with her.

"I'm a Death Eater," said Draco.

"You didn't want to be," she replied, her eyes unconsciously drifting to the tattoo on his arm.

"Yes I did." His voice was firm. "Give me your hand."

"What?"

"Give me your hand."

She trembled as she placed her hand in Draco's. He ran her fingers over his Dark Mark. She shuddered, still able to feel the power there.

"If we're going to do this, you can't have any illusions about the kind of man I am. This is something that you can only give once Hermione, I need to know if you're prepared to give it to an arrogant Slytherin Death Eater whose done things you can't even imagine and I'd rather you didn't."

She leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

"You're sure?" he asked.

And she just kissed him harder.

As Draco laid her on his bed, Hermione knew there was no going back from this. From giving him everything.

**I loved writing this chapter. I hope you enjoyed reading it. Sorry it's been so long. Thanks for reading and please leave a review! Thanks again!**


	13. Ever Just as Sure

_"Then you must go to him."_

When Hermione awoke the next morning, she expected Draco to be gone. Yawning, she turned over to find him still fast asleep at her side. She laid there for a moment staring at the bony curve of his chest, exposed by the sheets that had fallen below his hips. Her breath left her lips uneasily as she took him in. Last night flashed through her mind.

_Draco's lips sucking on her neck. Her legs wrapped around his waist. Hearts beating frantically._

She blinked, trying to keep her mind in the present, but the memories kept drawing her back in.

_The sound of his voice saying her name. His hands exploring every inch of her. Merlin, those hands._

Hermione must have breathed too hard because she felt Draco stir. His grey, lidded eyes opened groggily. He grumbled something and then turned to face her.

"I thought you'd have left," he whispered.

"Did you want me to?" she asked.

His hand reached out and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. Hermione shivered at his sparking touch. She had never experienced anything in her life that could compare to last night. "No but you should. Not sure we want to have this discussion with Starry and Lucky."

Her stomach sank. "The sun is barely up," she muttered, glancing through the crack in the curtains to the pale pink sunrise. "And since when does a Malfoy explain anything to a house elf?"

"Well, Starry and Lucky are bloody terrifying." A devilish grin crossed his face. "But if you're willing to risk it."

"For a repeat of last night-"

Draco's hand hooked on her bare waist and flipped her on top of him. "Something you need to learn about me, Granger." He sat up, tangling his arms around her neck.

"What's that?" She shook with anticipation.

Draco whispered in her ear. "A Malfoy never does it the same way twice."

Hermione slammed her lips to Draco's. His fingers twisted in her hair and she could hear him breathe her name.

"Hermione." For a moment, she thought it was Draco. "Hermione. Hermione!" Her whole body clenched. Draco's arms tightened around her like a vice.

"What was that?" he whispered in a shaky voice.

"I don't-" Hermione slipped away from Draco as his grip relaxed, wrapping a sheet around her body. Cautiously, she peered through the window. She gasped. Stories below, at the edge of the property, stood a tall, ginger-haired man she recognized immediately.

"Ron?" her voice cracked. There was no way he could have heard her but just as she said his name, Ron's eyes snapped to the window.

"Weasley?" asked Draco behind her. Before she could react to stop him, he stood next to her in the window, stunningly and perfectly naked. Ron's mouth fell open. Hermione blushed and grabbed the window, forcing it open.

"That bloody-" Wand drawn, Ron marched toward the manor.

"Ron, stop!" shouted Hermione but he did not listen. The floor shook; Hermione steadied herself against Draco. Suddenly, the earth outside tore open, sucking Ron into the chasm.

Hermione screamed and threw her hand over her mouth, her heart racing frantically. She leapt toward the floor, scrambling for her clothes.

"Hermione. What are you doing?"

"Going after him!" she shouted, pulling a shirt over her head, then her pants.

Draco's hands gripped her waist. "Where do you think that is?"

Hermione was breathing heavily. She had just watched her friend, the man she almost married, get swallowed by the earth. There had to be something she could do.

"I – I don't know. I'll figure it out."

"You can't leave here. Remember what happened last time you tried?"

Of course she did. She almost died. Then Draco saved her. Well, it was Ron's turned to be saved.

"Where is it?" Hermione fumble around Draco's nightstand, searching for her wand. "What did I-"

"Hermione," said Draco but she paid no attention to him. "Hermione!" he shouted.

She turned around, fuming, but she wasn't even sure who she was mad at. "What?"

Draco held out her wand. She snatched it away. "Thank you."

"Seriously Hermione – where are you going?"

She stood with her hand on the door frame, listening to Draco pulling on his jeans in the background. An idea flashed through her mind. She needed to get to the core of this places magic and the closest she had ever been to that was on Halloween night. "The catacombs."

"No!" shouted Draco. "Last time-"

"Last time you had a mental breakdown. I was fine." _Except I saw Harry. He was calling to me... begging me to go with him. What if I had just gone with him..._

"It's too dangerous."

"Oh what do you care?"

The emotion fell away on Draco's face as he marched up to her. His hands wrapped around the back of her neck and his mouth crushed hers. She gasped, relishing in his minty taste and the feel of his lips on hers. The desire to push him back on the bed fought with her desire to help Ron – even though she had no real idea how to do it.

Draco pulled away and Hermione shut her eyes. When they burst open, she knew what she had to say. "I'm sorry, Draco. I have to try."

"So you're choosing him?"

"I'm just – no – he's my friend. He's a person.. he's in trouble. I have to help him. That's what decent people do."

Hermione turned to go and Draco caught her hand, his grey eyes pleading. "Is there anything I can say to stop you?"

She shook her head.

"Then I'm coming with you," said Draco.

With a deep breath, she twisted her fingers with his, a sweeping rush of courage poured through her.

For the first time since the war, Hermione did not feel alone.

A/N: Hey folks. Sorry my updating has been so random. I hope you liked this chapter. It's sort of serving as a bridge between two parts. Thanks for reading and please review!


	14. Control Your Temper

_"But he could die. Please I'll do anything."_

Hermione stood with Draco in the threshold between his bedroom and the hallway, feeling scared and stuck and determined all at the same time.

"I have to help him, Draco. This is my fault-" Hermione looked up at Draco her eyes wide. She was afraid of returning to the catacombs but she had no choice if she wanted to save Ron.

Draco squeezed her hand. The calming sensation of his touch poured through her, making her feel brave again. "It's not your fault, but I understand. Let's do this before I change my mind."

"We should tell Starry where we are going. So she can get us out if she needs to," said Hermione as they ran hand in hand down the stairs. It was strange to have Draco by her side in this way, strange to have him back her up. But she would be lying if she said she didn't appreciate it.

"She's probably in the kitchen."

Together they made there way through Malfoy Manor. A place that no longer haunted Hermione – a place that she realized had become a sort of home for her. A new beginning.

"Starry!" shouted Draco.

"Lucky! Starry!" Hermione joined in.

As they slid into the kitchen, they saw Lucky sweeping up the dust-covered floor.

"There you are," breathed Draco, his face flushed from running. He was an incredibly attractive man. There was no point in Hermione's hiding it anymore.

Lucky dropped his broom, his pale face twisting in confusion. "Kids, what's wrong?"

Draco swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing. Hermione should not have been so focused on Draco's physicality at present but she had just slept with him the night before. It was hard not to think about it; even at a time like this. "We have to go back into the catacombs."

Lucky's eyes widened. "Are you out of your minds?"

Hermione stared at Lucky. They'd developed somewhat of a friendship over the last months though she was closer to Starry. "My friend – he's – the house trapped him. I have to find a way to save him."

Lucky's attention turned to Draco, there was a familiarity between the two of them Hermione never noticed before. "Draco – this is a bad idea," said Lucky.

Draco nodded. "I know."

"But you're doing it anyway." Lucky's head tilted to the side.

Draco's grey eyes met Hermione's gaze, holding her there. "Yes." There was something final, complete, in what he said. A warmth burned inside Hermione she hadn't felt since before the war.

"Starry's not going to like it," replied Lucky.

Draco shrugged. "Don't tell her unless you have to."

"We need to get going – who knows how long he has." Hermione squeezed Draco's hand, feeling the rough skin against her smooth skin, letting it comfort her.

"If he's not already dead," said Lucky.

Draco glared at Lucky, the kitchen light flashing in his eyes. "I'm sure he's fine."

With that, they ran, fingers still locked, through the rest of the house and to the entrance of the catacombs. Hermione couldn't breathe. Terrifying memories of the last time they were down there flooded through her. She wasn't sure she could do it – then she looked up at Draco and knew she could do anything. Anything if she got to do it with him by her side.

"Together," said Draco, pulling her closer to him, forcing away any remaining loneliness.

Hermione nodded, gazing up at Draco, her stomach stirring with pride as she thought of how much he changed. "Together," she replied.

And she was no longer afraid.

Draco worked the complicated spell he had done months ago on Halloween and Hermione experienced a moment of deja vu. It seemed not so long ago that Draco and Hermione hardly knew each other. Now they'd grown close – emotionally and physically.

His arm reached back. Hermione wasn't sure at first what he was doing and then her heart clinched and her lips smiled. Draco was reaching for her hand. There was a strange intimacy in holding hand, a genuine acceptance. It almost scared her more than returning the catacombs but she couldn't turn him down. Hermione needed Draco – and, as she realized, Draco needed her too.

_They needed each other._

Their fingers threaded together. With his cold skin against her warm skin, Hermione and Draco descended the dark stone steps into the damp, black endless halls that held a kind of darkness that chilled her blood.

"Nothing yet," breathed Draco as he flicked his wand, igniting the tip. Hermione could see the worry in the lines around his eyes an the creases in his normally smooth forehead.

"That's what we thought last time." Without thinking about it, Hermione squeezed Draco's fingers and he squeezed them back.

Draco swallowed. "We'll find Weasley."

Hermione nodded. No matter that it didn't work out romantically between her and Ron, he was still one of her best friends and the thought that anything bad happened to him, especially because of her, that was too much to bear. She could not let it be true.

"Ron!" she called out.

"Weasley. You down here?" shouted Draco.

"If only we knew where these catacombs actually led. We could just be going around in circles for no reason."

"I don't think we are. I mean there is a lot of dark magic down here. It had to be protecting something."

Doubt washing over her, Hermione said, "What if it's not? A lot of bad things happened in this place. That kind of magic doesn't just disappear. It hangs on. Maybe it's just everything you all and Voldemort did."

Draco's hand slipped away from Hermione's. "Everything I did."

That was a stupid thing to say, thought Hermione. She didn't mean it... did she? She couldn't. Not anymore. Not after she and him – but he had said to her. Said that he was a Death Eater. That he wanted to be one. A warmth of anger burned in her stomach, a bubble of acid bursting out of nowhere.

"I thought you were so proud of what you did."

His eyes blazing silver-hot, Draco grabbed Hermione's shoulders. "I _never _said that. Merlin, Hermione, do you really think that of me?"

"No – I – uh-"

"Fine. You know what I'm sorry I'm not a perfect little Gryffindor know-it-all."

"I'm not a know-it-all. And why should I feel bad about being smart? Just because you can't keep up!"

"You think you're smarter than me." Draco shook her. Hermione's eyes widened. "Is that what you think, mudblood?" he spat.

The rage slammed at Hermione's chest but she didn't let it out. Because she could hear the reckless anger in his voice, the bitterness in her own... it wasn't them...

Draco turned his back to her, his hand gripping his hair. "Hermione, I'm... I'm sorry... I."

"Hey, hey." Hermione's hand were on his back. She gently spun him to face her. Her hand fell on his cheek, her thumb stroking his cheekbone. "It's okay... I felt it too... it's this awful place. It's like having to wear those stupid horcruxes all over again."

Draco let out a weak laugh. When Hermione looked at him, she could see what she hadn't seen in awhile. The manor leaking its way onto Draco's flesh. His skin was a sallow grey, his eyes flecked with red.

"Let's keep moving," said Draco, his hand slipping to Hermione's again.

A cold wind blew through the corridor. Wind in a closed tunnel could not be a good thing. Hermione tried to cling tighter to Draco but he was slipping away from her... in more ways than one... she could feel him pulling away from her on the inside.

His voice cracked. "Astoria?"

**Thank you for reading. I appreciate everyone who had been reading and following and reviewing this story. Sorry for the slow updates. We're nearing the end(ish) so I hope you enjoy. Thanks again. I tried to post this last night and it didn't work... so here we go again.  
**


	15. Don't Leave Me

_"At least I got to see you one... last... time."_

_No. This can't be happening again. I can't lose him. I won't. _Hermione's heart pounded violently in her chest. Why did this place affect Draco so much? It wasn't right... she hated seeing the cold stone reflected on his skin.

"Draco, listen to me," said Hermione. "It's not her. She's not here." She had to convince him, make him see reality. Disconnect from the manor.

By the light of his wand, Hermione could see Draco's face shift. His eyes stared into the nothingness ahead of them, his mouth fallen open.

"I'm coming. I won't let you go. Not again." His voice hardly sounded like it belonged to him anymore. The one time she'd seen Harry down here... she remembered what that was like. It was overwhelming, unbearable. All she'd wanted was to go with him. To end the emptiness and pain that suddenly seemed everywhere and without end.

"Draco, please," Hermione begged. "It's not her. She's gone. She's... dead."

Her heart clinched as Draco's hand slipped away from hers. The missing contact made her truly terrified for the first time. She could feel him slipping away from her; she could feel herself losing him.

"It's an illusion. A trick. Please, Draco. Let her go." Hermione could feel tears prickling at her eyes.

"I can't!" he shouted. "I don't get to live if she doesn't. I don't deserve... I deserve to die." He sounded so broken, so hopeless. It was killing her to know the pain he was in.

The light on his wand extinguished as he walked deeper into the thick darkness. Hermione held out her wand, ready to fight if she needed to. But not ready to fight Draco... she didn't think she'd ever be ready to do that. Not after everything that had happened between them. And she didn't mean just the physical stuff but she'd found a friend, more than that. He was the missing part of herself she'd lost during the war and she couldn't let him go.

"Stop!" she shouted, forgetting to be afraid. She grabbed Draco's arm and held on tightly. He tried to shake her off but she wasn't letting go.

_I'm not letting go of you ever._

"It's my fault!" he shouted. "It's my fault – I'm so sorry." His body loosened and weighed on her heavily. Something about this place affected him so deeply, broke him apart. She should have never let him come down here. It was like he was being surrounded by dementors, drained of anything good, but there weren't any dementors – just something dark, unseen. How could she fight something she couldn't see?

Then it hit Hermione. It had been so long and so much had changed that it no longer seemed relevant until that moment. She had been sent here by the Ministry to find something. The fluxon changer. She left before ever looking for it that hard last time they were in the catacombs because she needed to get Draco out of there. The Fluxon Changer was her only chance. She didn't know why but in that moment she knew it was there. Knew she could find it, take control of the power of the house and make it release her and Ron and Draco. She needed this dark hold to finally release Draco.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione flicked her wand, her lips playing over a complicated incantation. It was similar to the spell she'd done last time she was down there but with one change. Instead of trying to push out the power of the Manor, she let it inside her. With one hand on the wall, she allowed the darkness building in the house to pour out, into her wand – into her skin.

It felt like a thousand pounds weighing down on her body. Crushing her bones, splitting open her skin. Pain. There was pain everywhere – and so much darkness. But she needed the strength of the house to find the Fluxon Changer, to force the magical object to reveal itself to her. Just when she thought the aching would be too much, there was a light. Something glowing in the distance – bright, so bright she thought it would set the place on fire. She knew what the glow meant. Hermione had found what she had been searching for. But the fluxon changer wasn't like anyone had imagined.

It wasn't an amulet or a stone, it wasn't a _thing _at all. It was a person. Hermione realized she was seeing what Draco had been seeing all along. Cascading black hair, dark eyes, moon-pale skin. It was the woman from Diagon Alley. The one in Draco's picture. She was glowing, radiating, with the power of Hermione's spell. It was Astoria Greengrass.

She was the fluxon changer. It made no sense because Astoria was even younger than Hermione and Draco and stories of the fluxon changer had been around for centuries. Maybe the power was stored in people, passed down from person to person. Did that mean Astoria was alive?

Hermione was tearing apart on the inside. Of course, she wanted Astoria to be alive for Draco's sake. She was his wife – but Hermione couldn't deny the feelings she had for him. They were so strong, so powerful, she could hardly contain them.

Draco was on the floor in front of Astoria, reaching out for her, but as his fingers grazed her body, he went rigid, screaming, like volts shot through his body. His limbs fell heavy, hard, like they were made of concrete.

Black eyes whipped to Hermione as Draco's legs sank into the stone, becoming part of the Manor. "You have to kill me," she whispered. "Hermione Granger, if you want to save Draco Malfoy you have to kill me. Like I killed her."

Hermione's heart skipped. "Who did you kill?"

"The last Cursed one. I needed the power to save my child. Such a weak thing to do with power."

_Little girl? What? Did Draco have a child? It couldn't..._

Hermione paused, considering Astoria's words. "If I become like you then I won't be able to help him. Just like you couldn't." Something seemed off in what the glowing Astoria was saying. How could you kill something that didn't even seem alive?

"You are weak. You're just like he was. Unable to do what is necessary."

Draco's grey eyes glowed in the darkness. Almost all that was left of him. "Please Astoria. I'm so sorry. Forgive me."

"Shut up, you pathetic man. I never loved you."

There was a heavy, heartbreaking pause.

"... you're not Astoria. I know that because I know she loved me." Draco broke away from the stone floor, shaking bits of dust and dirt away from his body.

So what had happened? Why did she look like Draco's wife when she wasn't?

The fake-Astoria smirked. "Well done, though I am, in some ways her. I have her thoughts, her memories, her face and her voice."

"You don't have her soul," said Hermione.

"I don't want souls. I want power. All it takes is some well-placed lies or a worthwhile bargain, people will agree to almost anything. Just like your wife did. I still remember her begging 'my little girl is dying. I'll do anything just don't let her die'. What a disgusting woman."

"Don't speak of her," shouted Draco, stepping too close and getting shocked by the power again.

Hermione screamed as a writhing body appeared on the floor in front of them. It was Ron, twitching and moaning, his body obviously racked with pain.

"Stop it. He has nothing to do with this!" shouted Hermione. "Let him go and... take my power, kill me instead." It was her fault Ron was in this position at all. She would never let her friend die for her. How could she live with herself if she did?

"Do you see this Draco?" laughed the fake Astoria. "She still wants him. She still chooses him over you."

_I don't. _Hermione wanted to scream but somehow the words lodged in her throat. _I care about, Ron, but it's you Draco... I know it. More than I've ever known anything. It's you. It will always be you._

The pain on Draco's face was obvious, tangible. His gaze burned right through Hermione. She wanted to say it. She needed to say it. She would. She would say it right now.

_I love you._

Hermione never got the chance.

"I don't care," said Draco. "You can have my power, kill me and not her. Hermione, I never thought I could... I thought it was impossible but I just need you to know. That I love you... I love you with all my heart."

He stepped forward, reaching his arm out to the Cursed One. She was about to touch him. The dark magic burned through the air, causing a stifling heat to envelop them.

She couldn't let him die. Not because it was the noble thing to do or the right thing. Not because it was the brave thing, or the Gryffindor thing. It was just what there was. The act of mad woman in love.

She threw herself between the Cursed One and Draco, her lips meeting his. And if this was the end, Hermione could die happy knowing her last act was to kiss the man she loved.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. There is just one last chapter to go. Hope you've enjoyed it. Let me know what you've thought. I appreciate reviews.**


	16. Happily Ever After

_"Beauty and the Beast"_

The world shattered around her.

_Pieces._

_Fragments._

_Shards. _

Everything wild, free and unhinged.

She felt as if there were nothing. Nothing but floating, held loosely by gravity and by the pressure on her lips. The pressure?

She was still kissing Draco. Could she still be kissing him if she were dead?

An earth-shattering light exploded around them. So bright she could see it through shut eyes. Was this it? Was this the moment she died?

But there was still one thing holding her to this earth. Those lips. Draco's lips on hers.

After what seemed like a lifetime, they broke apart. She blinked and saw Draco standing there, looking back at her with a look so warm and soft. A look that said everything words cold not say.

She was alive. He was alive.

And -

"Could you two not do that in front of me?" coughed Ron who was leaning against the wall.

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked and ran over to help him up.

"Seriously, Hermione. What the _hell _is all this?"

She sighed. "A curse."

Draco was staring down at his hands. Hermione noticed that the hall was no longer dark but lit with a warm glow.

"A _broken _curse," said Draco who was smiling so widely Hermione thought it might crack his face.

"I feel... it feels. I'm not longer connected to the house. No one is. It's over. We're free." Draco stared down at his feet. "You're free... to leave."

Hermione looked back at him, her stomach dropping. _Leave? _Did he want her to?

"Oh," she sighed.

He stepped across the hall and took her hands in a quick, intimate moment. "But you may stay, if you'd like."

Hermione felt a tear in the corner of her eye but she forced it back. This was a happy moment not to be ruined by tears. She nodded and kissed Draco hard and fast, but with everything she had.

Ron let out a strong 'ugh'.

"Sorry," she whispered.

Draco gasped. "Starry! Lucky!" He grabbed Hermione's hand and darted back toward the door.

"Ron, come on!" Hermione called back. She listened to the footsteps of her friend behind her and of the man she loved in front of her.

The three of them rounded the corner into the main hall of Malfoy Manor where they were not greeted by two house elves, but by Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Kissing. A lot.

Draco cleared his throat.

His parents looked toward him, smiling.

"I knew!" shouted Narcissa. "I knew she was the one to break the curse."

Hermione was surprised when Narcissa tackled her in a hug. Lucius was embracing his son.

"What's Weasley doing here?" asked Lucius

Draco laughed. "Long story."

"Mrs. Malfoy, I-" Narcissa pulled away and looked her in the eye. There was such warm familiarity. Hermione turned her head. "Starry?" She looked to Lucius. "Lucky?"

"You call me Lucius," he said as Draco and his mother were now hugging.

"This is... awkward," said Ron.

Hermione laughed and hugged him. "Thank you so much. For looking for me."

"Why did you send a owl?" he sounded exasperated.

"Nothing could get in or out, Ron. I'm sorry."

"I'm just glad you're okay. Though I'm being liberal with the use of okay seeing as you're shagging Malfoy."

"Weasley!" Draco shouted. "My _parents_."

"We can get out of here," said Hermione suddenly. She grabbed Draco by the arm and raced to the door as the reality swept over her. Lucius, Narcissa and Ron followed behind her.

She ran across the ground, letting the wind blow in her face. They ran right past the boundary of the curse with not even the slightest resistance, right into the street.

Draco picked Hermione off her feet and kissed her again, letting the free wind whip all around them. They today, tomorrow and the rest of their life to kiss, to touch, to live as they chose – to be free of the past and be together.

_A/N: So there it is. The last chapter. Curse broke and a happily ever after for our favorite ship. Thanks for reading and following and just being awesome. I loved writing this fic and I hope you all liked reading it._

_Not quite sure how this could be confusing... but I got a comment asking if Hermione was choosing Draco or Ron. It's obviously Draco._


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